Plotted Graph Quotes & Sayings

Lilah did little more than sleep and eat and cry, which to me was the most fascinating thing in the entire universe. Why did she cry? When did she sleep? What made her eat a lot one day and little the next? Was she changing with time? I did what any obsessed person would do in such a case: I recorded data, plotted it, calculated statistical correlations. First I just wrote on scraps of paper and made charts on graph paper, but I very quickly became more sophisticated. I wrote computer software to make a beautifully colored plot showing times when Diane fed Lilah, in black; when I fed her, in blue (expressed mother's milk, if you must know); Lilah's fussy times, in angry red; her happy times, in green. I calculated patterns in sleeping times, eating times, length of sleep, amounts eaten.
Then, I did what any obsessed person would do these days; I put it all on the Web. — Mike Brown

Art and mass entertainment and propaganda, they can all be plotted on the same graph, but there is a difference. — David Mamet

In that tiny moment of time, just a flicker of a second, his golden eyes met mine. "Free will, huh? Damn. It is a bitch." And then he smiled - he smiled - at me, a real smile, revealing those deep dimples. "I lost myself the moment I found you." My voice broke, and my heart ... — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I've always thought having a kid that played soccer would be the worst punishment. After watching 3 min of water polo I stand corrected. — Daniel Tosh

He loves not who does not see the faults of the beloved as virtues. — Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

In the white man's world, language, too
and the way which the white man thinks of it
has undergone a process of change. The white man takes such things as words and literatures for granted, as indeed he must, for nothing in his world is so commonplace. On every side of him there are words by the millions, an unending succession of pamphlets and papers, letters and books, bills and bulletins, commentaries and conversations. He has diluted and multiplied the Word, and words have begun to close in on him. He is sated and insensitive; his regard for language
for the Word itself
as an instrument of creation has diminished nearly to the point of no return. It may be that he will perish by the Word. — N. Scott Momaday

The invigorating energy in fresh-cut grass and cool, crisp chlorine filled Wendell's nostrils as they lounged by the pool in Evan's back yard. Looking past the back fence the wild grass bowed to the playful persuasion of the warm summer breeze and the corn lilies and columbines bounced their jeweled heads, laughing and teasing butterflies. Even the Cooper's hawk atop a nearby fence post, content with feasting on a woodpecker knew, it was a perfect day. — Jaime Buckley