Expressiveness Of The Body Quotes & Sayings

When we relate to our bodies as having soul, we attend to their beauty, their poetry and their expressiveness. Our very habit of treating the body as a machine, whose muscles are like pulleys and its organs engines, forces its poetry underground, so that we experience the body as an instrument and see its poetics only in illness. — Thomas Moore

I think she just asked if she could touch my mango. — Cassandra Clare

Every particle of matter is attracted by or gravitates to every other particle of matter with a force inversely proportional to the squares of their distances. — Isaac Newton

Major League Baseball has created a Pete Rose purgatory, and that's where he is. And that's where he's always going to be. It's unfortunate that the commissioner's office has decided to allow that to be the reality. I don't think Pete would mind if they said 'No' to Pete. Pete wants them to go one way or the other and get him out of the void he's in. — Mike Schmidt

I love classical music. Yes, I was in a conservatory when I was younger and played guitar and all that stuff, so I also love rock. — Matt Schulze

People aren't trees, so it is false when they speak of roots. — Tom Robbins

The captain has said too much or he has said too little, and I'm bound to say that I require an explanation of his words. — Robert Louis Stevenson

California is the only state in the union where you can fall asleep under a rose bush in full bloom and freeze to death. — W.C. Fields

The banner waved by the religious leaders reads; do not upset my world! Jesus is one who comes to call an about face and reverse the curse. Jesus call is not half way or three quarters; it is a complete and utter abandonment to his Lordship. Will the Pharisees and Herodians submit to Jesus Lordship? — Jonah Books

White performances were always dull in comparison to the astonishing expressiveness of Black dancers. Behind the white person's inarticulate body were centuries of condemnation of dancing on religious grounds. — Jamake Highwater

For if in careless summer days
In groves of Ashtaroth we whored,
Repentant now, when winds blow cold,
We kneel before our rightful lord;
The lord of all, the money-god,
Who rules us blood and hand and brain,
Who gives the roof that stops the wind,
And, giving, takes away again;
Who spies with jealous, watchful care,
Our thoughts, our dreams, our secret ways,
Who picks our words and cuts our clothes,
And maps the pattern of our days;
Who chills our anger, curbs our hope,
And buys our lives and pays with toys,
Who claims as tribute broken faith,
Accepted insults, muted joys;
Who binds with chains the poet's wit,
The navvy's strength, the soldier's pride,
And lays the sleek, estranging shield
Between the lover and his bride. — George Orwell