I know that most men, including those at ease with problems of the greatest complexity, can seldom accept even the simplest and most obvious truth if it be such as would oblige them to admit the falsity of conclusions which they have delighted in explaining to colleagues, which they have proudly taught to others, and which they have woven, thread by thread, into the fabric of their lives.
quote by Leo Tolstoy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Do not leave me
Do not leave me in this world without you.
You are woven through the fabric of my life.
If you abandon me I will unravel
slowly,
thread
by thread,
until I am nothing but holes.
How then will I continue when so much of me is missing?
poem by Diana Rosser
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Fabric Of Life
the bullet rips through the night
like a needle trailing a thread of blood
mending together the fabric of my life,
but the rain is falling and drowning me in self-guilt,
as i rape the pain with angel tears shed by the dealer of design,
wondering who created this fabric of life,
my life,
torn by the hands of depression,
mended
by bullets and blood
needles and thread
as i fall into a euphoria
of tears
Copyright 2007
poem by Slam Metalpuppets
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Refrain
Of all the songs which poets sing
The ones which are most sweet
Are those which at close intervals
A low refrain repeat;
Some tender word, some syllable,
Over and over, ever and ever,
While the song lasts,
Altering never,
Music if sung, music if said,
Subtle like some golden thread
A shuttle casts,
In and out on a fabric red,
Till it glows all through
With the golden hue.
Oh! of all the songs sung,
No songs are so sweet
As the songs with refrains,
Which repeat and repeat.
Of all the lives lived,
No life is so sweet,
As the life where one thought,
In refrain doth repeat,
Over and over, ever and ever,
Till the life ends,
Altering never,
Joy which is felt, but is not said,
Subtler than any golden thread
Which the shuttle sends
In and out in a fabric red,
Till it glows all through
With a golden hue.
Oh! of all the lives lived,
Can be no life so sweet,
As the life where one thought
In refrain doth repeat,
"Now name for me a thought
To make life so sweet,
A thought of such joy
Its refrain to repeat."
Oh! foolish to ask me. Ever, ever
Who loveth believes,
But telleth never.
It might be a name, just a name not said,
But in every thought; like a golden thread
Which the shuttle weaves
In and out on a fabric red,
Till it glows all through
With a golden hue.
Oh! of all sweet lives,
Who can tell how sweet
Is the life which one name
In refrain doth repeat?
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Our Stubborn Definitions Kept
Most of us were taught to keep sustained,
Only one interest.
And that would be kept in ourselves.
We were taught to look at others,
As charity cases, subservient and weak.
And delighted to defeat them as seen on TV.
Or with games to highlight our 'worldly' aggressions.
With obsessions to dominate.
We were taught to believe,
We were entitled to take anything we touched.
With a declaring of it ours immediately.
No matter whose hands grasped it first.
Or feet stood upon it since time began.
No matter what 'it' was we wanted...
It was ours with a declaring of a victory.
We were taught to perceive ourselves,
As the greatest things on Earth...
God has ever made from birth.
With a feeding on images to thirst this.
We isolated ourselves from those,
Who did not accept our ways!
And today we can not accept 'ourselves'...
Being without.
And we demand that others pay...
For the greeding of our selfishness,
To maintain our perceptions,
Within us nurtured to stay.
And those who have known us to be,
Highly motivated by our creative thoughts...
Are wishing us the best,
With a battle with truth now on our doorsteps.
And in a foolishness keeps us in this struggle fought.
And most of us protest this 'invader'...
That has come to test,
Our stubborn definitions kept with such conviction.
No matter what it takes...
We honor those who give away their lives,
In a public display to say they are out heroes.
But those in the know pray for their souls.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Eve- Song
I span and Eve span
A thread to bind the heart of man;
But the heart of man was a wandering thing
That came and went with little to bring:
Nothing he minded what we made,
As here he loitered, and there he stayed.
I span and Eve span
A thread to bind the heart of man;
But the more we span the more we found
It wasn't his heart but ours we bound.
For children gathered about our knees:
The thread was a chain that stole our ease.
And one of us learned in our children's eyes
That more than man was love and prize.
But deep in the heart of one of us lay
A root of loss and hidden dismay.
He said he was strong. He had no strength
But that which comes of breadth and length.
He said he was fond. But his fondness proved
The flame of an hour when he was moved.
He said he was true. His truth was but
A door that winds could open and shut.
And yet, and yet, as he came back,
Wandering in from the outward track,
We held our arms, and gave him our breast,
As a pillowing place for his head to rest.
I span and Eve span,
A thread to bind the heart of man!
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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Love Hanging By A Thread
I'm not yet in love
For it is hanging by a thread,
But soon it will break
And my love, it will shed
With it broken I will fall
Until I hit the ground,
Only then will I be running
Destination...lovebound.
I hope she understands
My feelings for her,
Will she accept them
I know not for sure.
But there it is hanging
By a thread so thin,
Hiding in the dark
So secret and dim.
Waiting to be unlocked
From my heart with a key,
Only then will my love
Be released and set free.
Until then I dream of her
As I lie there in my bed,
Waiting for the break
Of love hanging by a thread.
poem by Adam McKim
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The Old Army Blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
The soldier did not seem to care
Let the enemy try to take if he dare;
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare
Driving rain or snow wearing his blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
Being a soldier he could expect no better fare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
His fight done, read over with a prayer
Wrapped in the old grey Army blanket
Coarse and ruff quite often thread bare.
He did his duty few could compare,
Coarse and ruff, quite often thread bare
poem by Derrick Fernie
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Some people weave burlap into the fabric of our lives, and some weave gold thread. Both contribute to make the whole picture beautiful and unique.
Tapestry Of LIfe
I see life
Like a Tapestry
Were you weave
In and out of life
As the journey unfolds
Each thread
Inter woven in your dreams
Have vibrant colours
That burst into being
That burst into life
Then often as in life
You have the black
Grey and white
The hidden nightmares
The hidden dreams
The shadows of life
The beauty of it all
Is how each thread
Intertwines its way through life
Each colour vibrant
With each thread you sew
Even the shadows
Bring out the colours
On a tapestry of Gold
poem by Kaila George
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Broken Thread
Broken Thread
Waking early I hear myself breathing
Covered up in my hand me down hand me down
Hiding under my patchwork freezing
With my wedding dress calling me, calling me
I dress myself in dis-function
Do I drown you in sympathy, sympathy
You could be my winter messiah
Scarred around and around me....around me
Cause im stiched up like an angel chord, I'm fixed up
They try to run and hide somehere in there defense
And now want to hand me down again.....
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
I choose to set you on fire
No-more wearing and tearing me, tearing me
Your still my only desire
And now it seems like your leaving me, freeing me, healing me.
Cause im stiched up like an angel chord, I'm fixed up
They try to run and hide somehere in there defense
And now want to hand me down again.....
They try to run and hide somehere in there defense
And now want to hand me down again.....
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
On a broken thread
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Threads Of Truth
Threads what are gossamer threads of truth?
Where do they lead among all those entangled byways?
Who can separate all the knots all the strings
to find that one straight path to an elusive absolute truth?
Is there ever only one ultimate truth that outshines
all others amist the crowds of unending misconceptions?
Does God ever leave a thread of truth that might
speak for him as a guiding symbol of absolute fact?
A thread that represents his divine absolute authority?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Single Thread
Life is but a single thread
that stretches into infinity.
If the thread is ever broken
life then drifts away,
lost to the eons of eternal night.
There is no mending the thread
that is once severed,
no going back to recover.
Gone forever the control
it drifts endlessly away
into a greater light
than the one we know.
26 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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Stupidity consists in wanting to reach conclusions. We are a thread, and we want to know the whole cloth.
quote by Gustave Flaubert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One has woven the thread, another has drawn it forth.
Rip Up The Threads
We're all in this together.
We never were alone.
We've just been told
we're different.
And so the words were sewn
into a fabric, sewn up tight
by the dirty hands with the needle
and the threads became the grime.
It made the fabric
and wove the shame
into it tightly
without any name.
For without a name
there's just a blank space,
no visible face
to cast the blame on.
Rip up the threads.
Rip it in shreds.
Each race take a thread
and pull it apart.
Your common purpose
will be what you see.
And peace will finally start.
Love will be there
for we're creatures from God
that wants us to share
in a fabric made of love.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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We construct a narrative for ourselves, and that's the thread that we follow from one day to the next. People who disintegrate as personalities are the ones who lose that thread.
quote by Paul Auster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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America is not a blanket woven from one thread, one color, one cloth.
quote by Jesse Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One has woven the thread, another has drawn it forth. [One man invents, another develops the idea.)
Nubian
So when asked if my love for my brothers of color had been stolen
I simply reply
There is but a thread of love
which bonds me to my brothers
Perhaps through the fabric of that simple thread
I will have found the strength to forgive
For they are my people and if I can not show an enemy to forgive
then I too am part of a mighty problem
and I hold barriers within my culture
a culture which would never survive among such revengeful hearts
I am bitter and I search deep for acknowledgement of my pain
only to resurface with nothing but compassion
My mind shutters with anger
seeking revenge from even the most innocent
But I am not weak enough to allow hate to take over
it is not within me
poem by Lisa Visor
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