Quotes About Weaving

Trust to God to weave your thread into the great web, though the pattern shows it not yet.

Life is a tapestry woven by the decisions we make.

Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads.

You meant evil against me, Joseph told his brothers, using a Hebrew verb that traces its meaning to weave or plait. You wove evil, he was saying, but God rewove it together for good. God, the Master Weaver.

God as Master Weaver, Master Builder. He redeemed the story of Joseph. Can't he redeem your story as well?

Mike was right: the pattern of life isn't a straight line; it crosses and recrosses, drawing in and tying together other lives, as I do when I gather in the ends of my thread to make a knot.

The three spinners see our future. The gift of the gods to humankind is that we cannot see where the threads will go.

I determinedly weaved my way through the crowd, hauling my medical apparatus behind me like my little red wagon.

The writing I love has something memorable in it - an image, a smell. It's the connection between the moment and the whole concept, weaving the micro together with the macro so that it has a hold on people - that's writing.

I see so, so many novels written by people who are obviously short story writers. What they end up doing, it's going the full distance, covering three hundred pages or so, but they do it by just writing five or six long stories, and weaving them together, making them interdependent.

Perhaps he could still weave together the broken threads of his life. And yet, I wanted him here now. I needed him here. In the darkness, if I sat very still, I could almost feel his presence by me, quite near, but not too near. Didn't I promise to keep you safe, he would say softly. I have never broken a promise. Don't look so worried, Jenny. And yet, he would be careful. Careful not to move too close. Careful not to frighten me. Waiting still. I am your shelter. Don't be afraid.

Memory weaves and traps us at the same time according to a scheme in which we do not participate: we should never speak of our memory, for it is anything but ours; it works on its own terms, it assists us while deceiving us or perhaps deceives up to assist us.

Parents are like shuttles on a loom. They join the threads of the past with threads of the future and leave their own bright patterns as they go.

The seventh daughter is beautiful and wise beyond all measure. She spins the cloud-silk for the King and Queen of Heaven, and presides over the weaving which maidens do on earth. It is for this reason she is called the Weaving Maiden.

We have adopted the policy of Sorel of propaganda of the deed. The best rhetoric comes from building and testing models and running experiments. Let philosophers weave webs of words; such webs break easily.

He saw God's foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad.

There was a rightness to things that surpassed understanding, but she knew beyond all doubt that in each and every circumstance her feet had been guided along this path and to this place. A favourite saying in China—which she had heard on occasion from her own grandmother—was that the threads of life are easy to weave, but difficult to untangle.

Don't start weaving a social hypothesis in front of an angry woman holding a blade.

As Hephaistia she was associated with Hephaistos, and as Areia with the war-god Ares. As Ergane, goddess of handicrafts, she came close to the former of these gods, and as Alalkomene, "the Parrier", she came close to the latter. Of all the handicrafts she most loved and protected the art of smiths and metal-founders, likewise the women's crafts—spinning and weaving and woolwork.

of damask. One afternoon

But the threads of wyrd are a dimension of ourselves that we cannot grasp with words. We spin webs of words, yet wyrd slips through like the wind. The secrets of wyrd do not lie in our word-hoards, but are locked in the soul. We can only discern the shadows

28So we are convinced that every detail of our lives is continually woven together to fit into God's perfect plan of bringing good into our lives, for we are his lovers who have been called to fulfill his designed purpose.

This warp seemed necessity; and here, thought I, with my own hand I ply my own shuttle and weave my own destiny into these unalterable threads.

Yet, as the ever-woven verdant warp and woof intermixed and hummed around him, the mighty idler seemed the cunning weaver; himself all woven over with the vines; every month assuming greener, fresher verdure; but himself a skeleton. Life folded Death; Death trellised Life; the grim god wived with youthful Life, and begat him curly-headed glories.