#needles

Knitting is very conducive to thought. It is nice to knit a while, put down the needles, write a while, then take up the sock again. ↗

— Dorothy Day

#conducive #down #knit #knitting #needles

I have had heart surgery three times, so I know what it was like to have pins and needles stuck in you. ↗

— Josh Ryan Evans

#heart #i #know #like #needles

To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. ↗

— Helen Keller

#carpet #grass #lush #luxurious #me

Kittens are wide-eyed, soft and sweet. With needles in their jaws and feet. ↗

— Pam Brown

#feet #jaws #kittens #needles #soft

Then the long nights, that were also days, in the hospital. And the long blanks, that were also nights. Needles, and angled glass rods to suck water through. Needles, and curious enamel wedges slid under your middle. Needles, and - needles and needles and needles. Like swarms of persistent mosquitoes with unbreakable drills. The way a pincushion feels, if it could feel. Or the target of a porcupine. Or a case of not just momentary but permanently endured static electricity after you scuff across a woolen rug and then put your finger on a light switch. Even food was a needle - a jab into a vein... ("For The Rest Of Her Life") ↗

— Cornell Woolrich

#needles #recovery #surgery #food

I've earned all these years on my face. I don't want to be a liar if in five or 10 years I do get some Botox, but needles in the face scare me, so I don't really know if I am ever going to do that. ↗

— Valerie Bertinelli

#botox #earned #ever #face #five

Fat is one of the chief enemies of the heart because it has to be plentifully supplied with blood and thus needlessly increases the pumping load that the heart must sustain. ↗

— Gene Tunney

#blood #chief #fat #heart #increases

I sit alone in a dead world. The wind blows hot and dry, and the dust gathers like particles of memory waiting to be swept away. I pray for forgetfulness, yet my memory remains strong, as does the outstretched arm of the oppressive air. It seems as if the wind has been there since the beginning of the nightmare. Sometimes loud and harsh, a thousand sharp needles scratching at my reddened skin. Sometimes a whisper, a curious sigh in the black of night, of words more frightening than pain. I know now the wind has been speaking to me. Only I couldn't understand because I was too scared. I am scared now as I write these words. Still, there is nothing else to do. ↗

— Christopher Pike

#dead #fear #forgetfulness #memory #needles