the pattern appears so ethereally, that it is hard to remember that the shape is an attractor. It is not just any trajectory of a dynamical system. It is the trajectory toward which all other trajectories converge.
[Friendship] is a relationship that has no formal shape, there are no rules or obligations or bonds as in marriage or the family, it is held together by neither law nor property nor blood, there is no glue in it but mutual liking. It is therefore rar...
…the way people understood things had a lot to do with the way people were, how they had been shaped, what the wanted; tricks of rhetoric would not shift them.
You're telling me a shape-shifting demon just walked out onto Fifth Avenue and blended in with the crowd?" I asked. "Hailed a fucking cab after tearing everyone to pieces down here?
...looking up at the stars, he had accepted life as a medium for action. Something to wield like a tool. One’s own life: an instrument for the shaping of the world.
Truth: We are the present. We are now. We are the razor's edge of history. The future flies at us and from that dark blur we shape the past. And the past is forever.
Writing a novel is like trying to solve a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces aren't even fixed in shape. Yet, somehow, they all come together in the end to form the complete picture.
The world moves on so fast, and we lose all chance of being the women our mothers were; we lose all understanding of what shaped them.
Park's eyes got wide. well, sort of wide. Sometimes she wondered if the shape of his eyes affected how he saw things. That was probably the most racist question of all time.
The past is a distraction, a source of envy, enmity, bitterness. Only the present matters, for only in the present can we shape the future. Cut loose the past; it is dead weight. Let the Extirpation continue. Let it never end.
They stood, a family, and walked out of the mall, into the sunlight, seeking to rearrange the shape of their surroundings, to blow something up and watch all the tiny pieces resettle around them like falling snow.
And yet the feeling of injustice itself turned out to be strangely physical. Even realer, in a way, than a her hurting, smelling, sweating body. Injustice had a shape, an a weight, and a temperature, and a texture, and a very bad taste.
I really hope he shapes up, you know? He’s got a good head on his shoulders when he’s not trying to give himself alcohol poisoning.
I like imagining that he punished his body for me, torturing it into such spectacular shape, hoping that one day I'd be able to appreciate his efforts.
Your flour is your dream and your bread is your fulfillment. The environment in which your flour is baked can influence the shape of your bread... Just take it as simple as that!
No matter how obstacles may "play" you over the bar, you will be able to assume your shape when your passion is always intact. You will not burst!
I am discovering that in trying to find God's will and the shape of the Christian life I have begun an adventure so great that its total completion will always be ahead.
I might have been a little mesmerized for a moment as I took in the sight of her shapely backside. It was incredible. I just wanted to spank it and bite it and worship it and completely fucking defile it.
No matter our size or shape, everyone deserves a safe place in this world." ~ from BIG SMALL DOG, a children's story about overcoming bullying and adversity, and discovering unity and friendship.
I wouldn't be surprised if poetry - poetry in the broadest sense, in the sense of a world filled with metaphor, rhyme, and recurring patterns, shapes, and designs - is how the world works. The world isn't logical; it's a song.
Bricks could be used as breast implants. Lady Squaretits is really particular about the shape of her boobs.
