Quotes About Maze

Out of the rhythm and sound of the sea that beat through the orchestra, something moved--pressing toward death with quiet insistent joy--the thread through the maze--the soul behind the toil and the crime and longing.

Is it worth going into this admission process in just a little more detail? I think so, if only to appreciate the tendency the Italian authorities have of offering everybody a price (to endear themselves to the electorate) and then, since they can't actually afford to give it to everybody, setting up a maze, or obstacle race, to make sure that only those who really haggle for it (not those who need it) actually get it.

With a labyrinth, you make a choice to go in - and once you've chosen, around and around you go. But you always find your way to the center.

Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth.

Saat üçü vurdu, dördü vurdu, dört buçuÄŸu vurdu ama o yerinden k?m?ldamad?. Hayat?n örgüsü içindeki parlak renkli lifleri bir araya toplamaya, onlarla bir örüntü dokumaya çal???yordu; içinde dolaÅŸt???, tutkunun kan rengi labirentinde yolunu bulmaya çal???yordu.

To love both the invisible God, Repository of All Virtues, and visible man, apparently possessed of none, is often baffling! But ingenuity is equal to the maze. Inner research soon exposes a unity in all human minds?the stalwart kinship of selfish motive. In one sense at least, the brotherhood of man stands revealed. An aghast humility follows this leveling discovery. It ripens into compassion for one's fellows, blind to the healing potencies of the soul awaiting exploration.

Por un instante recordó el antiguo mito de Dédalo: el muchacho recorrió el laberinto del Minotauro con una mano pegada al muro, pues le habían garantizado que, si no dejaba de mantener contacto con él, encontraría la salida.

The first time she had tried to kill herself, she had intuited that there was no escape. She had seen, with sudden clarity, that her life was a series of boxes, a maze that she would run and run through and never find an exit, and she thought, almost peacefully, I don't want it. I don't want my life.

Although we know the end of the maze holds death (and it is something I have not always known—not long ago the adolescent in me thought death could happen only to other people), I see now that the path I choose through that maze makes me what I am.

Folly is an endless maze; Tangled roots perplex her ways;

A maze of softly-lit slightly-curved beige hallways, all alike.

Sie waren in einen Irrgarten immergrüner Hecken eingetaucht, und hinter jeder Hecke wartete eine Ecke, wartete eine Ecke, wartete eine Ecke, und dann noch eine Hecke. Nichts als Ecken und Hecken. Unnatürlich.

infinite corridor of panic that led nowhere.

And Quentin had never known how the Maze was redrawn over the summer, but apparently every year in June the groundskeeper goaded the topiary animals into such a feeding frenzy that they fell upon and devoured each other in a kind of ghastly slow-motion vegetarian holocaust.

She is a maze where I got lost years ago, and now find the way out. She is the missing map. She is the place that I am.

The maze. Find your own way through and you shall win your heart's desire. Fail and you will wander for ever in these unforgiving walls.

London is a vast, complex city designed by the same guy who created the Habitrail.

no reason to mention my peculiarities, my wandering in the maze these many years, shut away from sight. and from love, too.

I felt lost in this maze. In the world into which Gavrila was initiating me, human aspirations and expectations were entangled with each other like the roots and branches of great trees in a thick forest, each tree struggling for more moisture from the soil and more sunshine from the sky.

The difficulty in dealing with a maze or labyrinth lies not so much in navigating the convolutions to find the exit but in not entering the damn thing in the first place. Or, at least not yet again. As a creature of free will, do not be tempted into futility.

I sighed. I hated the maze of bureaucracy with a passion, but I've found the best way to deal with it is to smile and act stupid. That way, no one gets confused.

The Maze was built were dark from the earlier rain, and a hint of peat smoke drifted through the air from the distant cottages. It made Banks think of Laphroaig, and he wondered if he might regain his taste for Islay malt whisky before long.

We were great builders, but one day we decided to play a game. We did it voluntarily; were we such good builders that we could build a maze with a way out but which constantly changed so that, despite the way out, in effect there was no way out for us...

My eyes are open and I'm not seeing a thing because I am so lost inside.