Quotes About Edges

Edges are magic, too; there's a kind of forbidden magic on the borders of things, always a ceremony of crossing over, even if we ignore it or are unaware of it.

The edges of your wound surround a void

Definition 20. If some new vertices of degree 2 are added to some of the edges of a graph G, the resulting graph H is called an expansion of G.

There has been a steady escalation of conditions since our first discussions in Chapter 2. Then we talked about plain old graphs. Subsequently we restricted our attention to planar graphs, then to planar connected graphs, then to planar connected graphs with each edge bordering two faces (polygonal graphs), and now to planar connected regular graphs with each edge bordering two faces and all faces bounded by the same number of edges (platonic graphs).

I am one who has always been interested only in the edges of the body and the spirit, the outlying regions of the body and the outlying regions of the spirit. The depths hold no interest for me; I leave them to others, for they are shallow, commonplace. What is there, then, at the outer most edge? Nothing, perhaps, save a few ribbons, dangling down into the void.

Time was sanding your hopes and dreams smooth so they'd fit into the shape of the world, even as you saw them, beautiful, with bright and shiny edges, still in your mind.

The farther you go...the harder it is to return. The world has many edges and it's easy to fall off.

A young wine is like a horse, it is extremely vibrant. It needs taming. It has lots of life, the edges need bevelling and we need to reduce the tannins.

The sword of destiny has two edges… You are one of them.

The actual technique, the process of painting flat color and simple geometric edges, all dates from my time here on Coenties Slip.

Glory sipped her second glass of red wine, impatient for the slight buzz that made her edges blur.

Infants begin to see by noticing the edges of things. How do they know an edge is an edge? By passionately wanting it not to be. The experience of eros as lack alerts a person to the boundaries of himself, of other people, of things in general. It is the edge separating my tongue from the taste for which it longs that teaches me what an edge is.

I have always felt that the action most worth watching is not at the center of things but where edges meet. I like shorelines, weather fronts, international borders. There are interesting frictions and incongruities in these places, and often, if you stand at the point of tangency, you can see both sides better than if you were in the middle of either one.

It's like the grief has been covered over with some kind of blanket. It's still there, but the sharpest edges are .. muffled, sort of. Then, ever now and then, I lift the corner of the blanket just to check, and .. whoa! Like a knife! I'm not sure that will ever change.

Certainly, in exchange for losing the fear of taking blame for bad outcomes, you also lose the unadulterated high of claiming good outcomes were 100% skill. That's a trade you should take. Remember, losing feels about twice as bad as winning feels good; being wrong feels about twice as bad as being right feels good. We are in a better place when we don't have to live at the edges. Euphoria or misery, with no choices in between, is not a very self-compassionate way to live.

to say that, or something similar, might lend colour to the tedium, the way a child draws something then clumsily colours it in, blurring the edges, but to me it's just words echoing around the cellars of thought.

Fantasy gets a mixed reception - a lot of fantasy is formulaic but most of the award-winning fantasy on the contrary tends to be the stuff at the edges of the genre, rather than swimming in the middle.

I'll tell you, my friends: it's all in the nerves. The nerves that tense and relax as you approach the edges of companionship and love. The razor-sharp edges of companionship and love.

Few things have such sharp edges as the careless words of a boy.

Imagine a pair of woman's lips," Mogor whispered, "puckering for a kiss. That is the city of Florence, narrow at the edges, swelling at the center, with the Arno flowing through between, parting the two lips, the upper and the lower. The city is an enchantress. When it kisses you, you are lost, whether you be commoner or king.

Stories should be like life, slightly frayed at the edges, full of loose ends and lives juxtaposed by accident rather than some grand design. Most of life has no meaning--so it must surely be a distortion of life to tell tales in which every single element is meaningful?

I hope to risk things all my life." "Oh, Margaret, most dangerous." "But after all," she continued with a smile, "there's never any great risk as long as you have money." "Oh, shame! What a shocking speech!" "Money pads the edges of things," said Miss Schlegel. "God help those who have none.

there's never any great risk as long as you have money." "Oh, shame! What a shocking speech!" "Money pads the edges of things," said Miss Schlegel. "God help those who have none.

For me, the first thing I do when I know I have to do the fastest skater is check my edges and make sure there's no nicks or anything like that.