Diasticutis Quotes & Sayings

When I tried to show him how an electromagnet works by making a little coil of wire and hanging a nail on a piece of string, I put the voltage on, the nail swung into the coil, and Jerry said, Ooh! It's just like fucking! — Richard Feynman

I've got no problem with octopuses. It's bugs and spiders that I don't like. Octopuses are cute, in their own 'nature did a lot of drugs' sort of way. — Mira Grant

You don't have to,' I say. 'You are normal. You have a job with tenure. You have Lucia and this house.' I cannot say the rest that I think, that he is easy in his body, that he sees and hears and tastes and feels what others do, so his reality matches theirs. — Elizabeth Moon

I stare at the empty horizon for help
And it hints me to drown into the ocean waves
Perhaps like the sun I will drown today
And rise anew with the new sun's rays. — Gayathri Jayakumar

And loss of control is always the source of fear. It is also, however, always the source of change. — James Frey

Just g'wan back home and set down on yo' royal diasticutis and say nothin'. — Zora Neale Hurston

All nightmares are a peephole through which we see the unsettling particles of our trampled past, whereas all uplifting dreams are a portal to escape the inexplicable undercurrents that worry our survival. — Kilroy J. Oldster

Voluit!
Petra Hermans
25 September 2016 — Petra Hermans

Fable: When we're stuck in troubled feelings we believe that all our feelings are true
that is to say, we believe that by our emotions at that moment we are making accurate judgments about what's happening. If I'm angry with you, I'm certain that you are making me angry.
Fact: Though we truly have these feelings, they are not necessarily true feelings. More likely I'm angry because I'm misusing you, not because you are misusing me. — C. Terry Warner

I never, ever cheated [in medical school]. I don't condone cheating. But I would sometimes spread misinformation. This is a great tactic. Misinformation can be very important. — Rand Paul

For years afterward, I had dreams in which my mother appeared in strange forms, her features sewn onto other beings in combinations that seemed both grotesque and profound: as a slippery white fish at the end of my hook, with a trout's gaping, sorrowful mouth and her dark, shuttered eyes; as the elm tree at the edge of our property, its ragged clumps of tarnished gold leaves replaced by knotted skeins of her black hair; as the lame gray dog that lived on the Mueller's property, whose mouth, her mouth, opened and closed in yearning and who never made a sound. As I grew older, I came to realize that death had been easy for my mother; to fear death, you must first have something to tether you to life. But she had not. It was as if she had been preparing for her death the entire time I knew her. One day she was alive; the next, not.
And as Sybil said, she was lucky. For what more could we presume to ask from death - but kindness? — Hanya Yanagihara