#jar

The jargon of sculptors is beyond me. I do not know precisely why I admire a green granite female, apparently pregnant monster with one eye going around a square corner. ↗

— Ezra Pound

#apparently #around #beyond #corner #eye

There was a beautiful time... ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#beauty #bell-jar #time #beauty

All day long the door of the sub-conscious remains just ajar; we slip through to the other side, and return again, as easily and secretly as a cat. ↗

— Walter de La Mare

#ajar #all day #cat #day #door

Mmm, I love Yoda. I didn't like Jar Jar Binks though, he was all wrong. ↗

— Gail Porter

#i #i love #jar #like #love

Have I told you today how incredibly beautiful you are? If I haven't, I deeply apologize. That's something that should be recognized on a daily basis. ↗

— Jamie McGuire

#nina-grey #beauty

I'm never going to get married." "You're crazy." Buddy brightened. "You'll change your mind." "No. My mind's made up. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#married #sylvia-plath #the-bella-jar #change

This is what opportunity brings with it. It's the self-determination of man. Every man in the course of his life eternal life undergoes countless changes and has to appear once in this worlds as a thief in certain periods of his activity. ↗

— Jaroslav Hašek

#svejk #the-good-soldier-svejk #change

He doesn't think of doctrines as primarily "true' or 'false', but as 'academic' or practical', 'outworn' or 'contemporary', 'conventional' or 'ruthless'. Jargon, not argument, is your best ally in keeping him from the Church. Don't waste time trying to make him think that materialism is true! Make him think it is strong, or stark, or courageous--that it is the philosophy of the future. That's the sort of thing he cares about. ↗

— C.S. Lewis

#jargon #philosophy #courage

Not easy to state the change you made. If I'm alive now, I was dead, Though, like a stone, unbothered by it. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#depression #sadness #sylvia-plath #the-bell-jar #change

It was one of those things they keep in a jar in the tent of a sideshow on the outskirts of a little, drowsy town. One of those pale things drifting in alcohol plasma, forever dreaming and circling, with its peeled, dead eyes staring out at you and never seeing you. It went with the noiselessness of late night, and only the crickets chirping, the frogs sobbing off in the moist swampland. One of those things in a big jar that makes your stomach jump as it does when you see a preserved arm in a laboratory vat. ↗

— Ray Bradbury

#drifting #jar #jars #noiselessness #pale