Quotes About Flow

To put your hands in a river is to feel the chords that bind the earth together.

There are many languages in the world; in meaning all are the same. If you break the cups, water will be unified and will flow together.

Footballers can be like artists when the mind and body are working as one. It is what Miles Davis does when he plays free jazz - everything pulls together into one intense moment that is beautiful.

The beauty of playing together is meeting in the One.

We join spokes together in a wheel, but it is the center hole that makes the wagon move.

The changes are coming fast and blind now, and in your skull sits an hourglass with a grain size hole through which numb seconds are sliding.

Water will not flow from a faucet that is not connected to its source.

Said the river: imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.

The sea can do craziness, it can do smooth, it can lie down like silk breathing or toss havoc shoreward; it can give gifts or withhold all; it can rise, ebb, froth like an incoming frenzy of fountains, or it can sweet-talk entirely. As I can too, and so, no doubt, can you, and you.

Off they go, hundreds of them, like the black fingerprints of the rain.

Fill your soul with love and gratitude. Pray for the world. Share the message of love. And let us flow as long as we live.

Exhausted, he realized that he couldn't fight such power. The only thing he could do was go with the flow.

goodness surrounds us in the manifestation of all of nature but it also flows through us on a regular basis; it is Spirit at work in and through us.

caffeine-infused tsunami of words.

He walked with an effortless speed, feeling relaxed by a form of activity that was natural to him.

Isn't that what you say in America? Just go with the flow.…" Roy laughed again, loud enough for the people at the next table to turn around. Only the magic was gone out of it now; it sounded hollow, as if it were traveling across a vast, empty distance.

The pounding of What do I want went still in her breast. It didn't matter what she chose. The world was what it was, a place with its own rules of hunger and satisfaction. Creatures lived and mated and died, they came and went, as surely as summer did. They would go their own ways, of their own accord.

This was a living flow, like a pulse through veins, with the cells bursting and renewing themselves as they went. The sudden vision filled her with strong emotions that embarrassed her, for fear of breaking into sobs as she had in front of her in-laws that day when the butterflies enveloped her. How was that even normal, to cry over insects?

AS LONG AS I KEPT MOVING, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did the slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown.

There is no stepping in the same river twice. So say the Greek philosophers, and the crocodiles make sure.

It's easier to make something happen when you're already in motion.

Another day, in the rain, we're waiting for the boat at the lake; from happiness, this time, the same outburst of annihilation sweeps through me. This is how it happens sometimes, misery or joy engulfs me, without any particular tumult ensuing : nor any pathos: I am dissolved, not dismembered; I fall, I flow, I melt. Such thoughts grazed, touched, tested (the way you test the water with your foot)--can recur

Water runs down hill concisely. There is no quibbling about it. It does not have to run up hill in order to be entertaining. Man has always followed its course with fascination. The soul of man may reveal its mysteries through direct expression, simple speech, simple gesture, simple painting, just as the soul of the brook is expressed in full simplicity and economy.

Time is a face on the water.