Holding On By A Thread Quotes & Sayings

When we're outside, I hear Brittany take a deep breath. I swear it sounds as if she's holding herself together by a thin thread. Not the way it's supposed to go down: bring girl home, kiss girl, mom insults girl, girl leaves crying.
"Don't sweat it. She's just not used to me bringin' girls in the house."
Brittany's expressive blue eyes appear remote and cold. "That shouldn't have happened," she says, throwing back her shoulders in a stance as stiff as a statue's.
"What? The kiss or you likin' it so much?"
"I have a boyfriend," she says as she fidgets with the strap on her designer book bag.
"You tryin' to convince me, or yourself?" I ask her. — Simone Elkeles

Life offers us tickets to places which we have not knowingly asked for. — Maya Angelou

CART is one of the safest racing series in the world. — Michael Andretti

ThreadLocal, which allows you to associate a per-thread value with a value-holding object. Thread-Local provides get and set accessormethods that maintain a separate copy of the value for each thread that uses it, so a get returns the most recent value passed to set from the currently executing thread. Thread-local variables are often used to prevent sharing in designs based on mutable Singletons or global variables. For example, a single-threaded application might maintain a global database connection that is initialized at startup to avoid having to pass a Connection to every method. Since JDBC connections may not be thread-safe, a multithreaded application that uses a global connection without additional coordination is not thread-safe either. By using a ThreadLocal to store the JDBC connection, as in ConnectionHolder in Listing 3.10, each thread will have its own connection. Listing — Brian Goetz

She waited for him with shallow breaths, head thrown back, eyes half closed, completely exposed in her trust of him, and it unravelled the last thread holding him together. — Dianna Hardy

Modest wisdom plucks me from over-credulous haste. — William Shakespeare

Taste, if it mean anything but a paltry connoisseurship, must mean a general susceptibility to truth and nobleness, a sense to discern, and a heart to love and reverence all beauty, order, goodness, wheresoever, or in whatsoever forms and accompaniments they are to be seen. This surely implies, as its chief condition, not any given external rank or situation, but a finely-gifted mind, purified into harmony with itself, into keenness and justness of vision; above all, kindled into love and generous admiration. — Thomas Carlyle

The people of Shishmaref want their community to survive, but they are holding on to their legacy by a very delicate thread indeed. The threat of their land disappearing is only the beginning. — Amy J. Berg

I've been playing piano my whole life, but I'd never tried to understand how compositions are made, really. Try to imagine if you'd loved paintings your whole life but had never painted one. My aspiration now is just to understand. — Caio Fonseca

The shortest pencil is longer than the longest memory — Mark Batterson

The people of our city are holding on by a thread. Time has run out. Can we survive another night? And who can we depend on? Only God knows. — Ray Nagin

He was beautiful, that was always affirmed, but his beauty was hard to fix or to see, for he was always glimmering, flickering, melting, mixing, he was the shape of a shapeless flame, he was the eddying thread of needle-shapes in the shapeless mass of the waterfall. He was the invisible wind that hurried the clouds in billows and ribbons. You could see a bare tree on the skyline bent by the wind, holding up twisted branches and bent twigs, and suddenly its formless form would resolve itself into that of the trickster. — A.S. Byatt

Holding something doesn't make it yours. You realize at some point you're just keeping it back for yourself, because it's pulling away with equal force. You've got to cut the string from your finger and leave that wispy thread, like a baby spider on the breeze. — Craig Silvey

Under the rule of the Peshwas in the Maratha country,11 the Untouchable was not allowed to use the public streets if a Hindu was coming along, lest he should pollute the Hindu by his shadow. The Untouchable was required to have a black thread either on his wrist or around his neck, as a sign or a mark to prevent the Hindus from getting themselves polluted by his touch by mistake. In Poona, the capital of the Peshwa, the Untouchable was required to carry, strung from his waist, a broom to sweep away from behind himself the dust he trod on, lest a Hindu walking on the same dust should be polluted. In Poona, the Untouchable was required to carry an earthen pot hung around his neck wherever he went - for holding his spit, lest his spit falling on the earth should pollute a Hindu who might unknowingly happen to tread on it. — B.R. Ambedkar

The clurichaun wasn't going to be winning any beauty contests. Not only was he short - four feet at best - but he was rather squat. Not brawny, but of a sturdy build with shorter-than-average legs and overly long arms. His face, which could best be described as having been sculpted by a young child, didn't improve upon his unusual proportions. His nose was bulbous and lumpy, his ears stuck out from his head, and his short hair shot out from his head in uneven spikes. His clothes were another matter entirely. The stained and ripped jeans were held up by a twine belt, and the faded plaid shirt was half-untucked, missing buttons, and one arm was holding on to the body of the shirt by a thread. "Oh, — N.E. Conneely

Poetry proceeds from the totality of man, sense, imagination, intellect, love, desire, instinct, blood and spirit together. — Jacques Maritain

I was a young man with a completely normal sex drive, who was encouraged to study the scriptures," he said. "I memorized all of it." He stroked her lips. ""Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet ... Thou hast ravished my heart.""
Something stricken banished the laughter from her gaze. "Yes," she whispered. "That's what it feels like."
All the words burned away, and he stood silent, without language or barriers, holding on to her bare, warm waist. He felt like he might drown if he let go. He might drown anyway, but if he did, he needed to bring her with him. — Thea Harrison

He rips open the package and pulls out the thread. It's the same snowy white as his wings. He holds the thread and hair together and twirls them with his thumb and forefinger so that the two strands intertwine. Holding the ends together, he steps over to the sword that lies on the counter and wraps the strand around the sword's grip. "Stop complaining," he says to the sword. "It's for luck. — Susan Ee

My mother is in a bed with tubes down her throat, my twin is now on a different continent, and my father is holding himself together by a thread."

Stopping across from him, I continued. "I have two younger brothers to keep calm in the wake of all this, a country to run, and six boys downstairs waiting for me to offer one of them my hand." Coddly swallowed, and I felt only the tiniest bit of guilt for the satisfaction it brought me. "So, yes, I am emotional right now. Anyone in my position with a soul would be. And you, sir, are an idiot. How dare you try to force my hand on something so monumental on the grounds of something so small? For all intents and purposes, I am queen, and you will not coerce me into anything. — Kiera Cass

But we do not choose our deaths. The Norns do that at the foot of Yggdrasil and I imagined one of those three Fates holding the shears above my thread. She was ready to cut, and all that mattered now was to keep tight hold of my sword so that the winged women would take me to Valhalla's feasting-hall. — Bernard Cornwell

I wasn't Dex Foray. I was just this emotion that was crumbling to the floor, holding onto the doorway like it was the last thread of my humanity. — Karina Halle

Nothing can match the wonderment that comes from staring up into the star-filled canopy above and realizing that you are a part of that creation. — Tim Ferriss

Baby girl, you destroy me," he whispered against her lips. "You have to tell me if you don't want this because I'm holding on by a thread."
"Then let go," she whispered in reply. — Rachel Harris