Reaching The Edge Quotes & Sayings

Small change can often be found under seat cushions. — Robert A. Heinlein

It's a dirty little secret that I'm pretty self-conscious about coloring my own work. I just see so many people who love color more than me that I get freaked out every time I hit Photoshop. Black and white? I know exactly what to do, but color offers a million solutions to problems I don't even know exist. — Doug TenNapel

Months ago, they'd found this Episcopal Church that openly welcomed homosexuals. Every decision made since then centered on supporting and belonging to this church. He and Kane attended Sunday mass here regularly. For Kane, this congregation was a dream come true. He had no idea churches like these existed. — Kindle Alexander

I feel another argument coming on." His mocking amusement might not have shown on his face, but she could feel it in her mind. Jacques simply lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder.
"No way, you wild man. You aren't Tarzan. I don't like heights. Put me down."
"Close your eyes. Who is Tarzan? Not another male, I hope."
The wind rushed over her body, and she could feel them moving fast, so fast the world seemed to blur. She closed her eyes and clutched at him, afraid to do anything else. His laughter was happy and carefree, and it warmed her heart, dispelling any residue of fear she carried. It was a miracle to her that he could laugh, that he was happy.
Tarzan is the ultimate male. He swings through trees and carries his woman off into the jungle.
He patterns himself after me.
She nuzzled his back. He tries. — Christine Feehan

I shrugged. "Actually, I didn't tell her much of anything. She must've put two and two together all on her own and come up with you being a jerk face."
His gaze slid back to me and he grinned. "Ouch, shortie."
"Yeah, like that really bothered you." I glanced back through the small window in the door that led to bio. Mr. Tucker was already at his desk - was Mrs. Cleo ever coming back? - and we only had a minute, tops, before the tardy bell rang. "What did you want?"
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin slip of yellow paper, waving it in my face. "Guess what I found?"
"Obviously not a better personality," I remarked.
"Ha. Funny." He brushed the edge of the paper across my nose and smiled when I smacked it away. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

At one edge of the base, pressed between the fenceline and the sea, shimmered the pale archways and columns, the madrone and wind-shaped cypresses of the clifftop campus of College of the Surf. Against the somber military blankness at its back, here was a lively beachhead of drugs, sex, and rock and roll, the strains of subversive music day and night, accompanied by tambourines and harmonicas, reaching like fog through the fence, up the dry gulches and past the sentinel antennas, the white dishes and masts, the steel equipment sheds, finding the ears of sentries attentuated but ominous, like hostile-native sounds in a movie about white men fighting savage tribes. — Thomas Pynchon

create an environment supportive enough that people are willing to share their genius, but confrontational enough to improve ideas and spark new thinking. — Anonymous

With this first novel, I am just above the foothills, but I see the path to the top, and it is my desire to write compelling stories about everything that I find of interest. — Guy Johnson

There was a tattoo, in block letters, low on his pelvis. She sat up on the edge of the bed, her hands reaching behind to grab his ass and pull him closer, so she could read it. "You have got to be shitting me, THE END ZONE, really?" — Sarah Curtis

As I stepped out to face myself in the mirror, reaching a hand to smooth away the steam, I saw myself differently. It was as if I had grown again as I slept, but this time just to fit my own size. As if my soul had expanded, filling out the gaps of the height that had burdened me all these months. Like a balloon filling slowly with air, becoming all smooth and buoyant, I felt like I finally fit within myself, edge to edge, every crevice filled. — Sarah Dessen

While I do not believe in imperative goals or ends, I do believe in a returning endgame. When you reach one end, it should be for conception. When you reach the next end, it should be for immortality. One should reach the state of existing and non-existing at the same time. One's goals and endgame should be metaphysical and pataphysical, stepping over the edge of logic and reason. If you are not reaching to step above ... then you belong at the bottom. — Lionel Suggs

The ceiling is not a good limit;
it prevents you from reaching the sky.
The sky is not a favorable limit;
it hinders you from reaching the stars.
The stars are not an acceptable limit;
they impede you from reaching the edge of the universe. — Matshona Dhliwayo

Hello! It could only have been Andre, but she replaced the receiver instantly, reaching for the tiny, crumpled scrap of paper and tucking it under her pillow as she dozed off again, struck by another dream at the edge of sleep, and clutching her head and her heart because she didn't know where all the blood was coming from. Nonetheless she kept repeating: It's nothing, it's nothing, nothing else can happen to me now. Something might happen to me, but nothing has to happen. — Ingeborg Bachmann

Transformationally motivated people are the growing edge of a great continuity of souls reaching back to the very earliest times. — Barbara Marx Hubbard

Art is the cutting edge of the mind, the perpetual out-reaching of thought into the unknown, the act in which thought eternally sets itself a fresh problem. So play, which is identical with art, is the attitude which looks at the world as an infinite and indeterminate field for activity, a perpetual adventure. All life is an adventure, and the spirit of adventure, wherever it is found, can never be out of place. It is true that life is much more than this; it is never, even its most irresponsible moments, a mere adventure; but this it is; and therefore the spirit of play, the spirit of eternal youth, is the foundation and beginning of all real life. 1 — R.G. Collingwood

God had a plan for everything. I never knew I'd come to Iowa, but now I love Iowa. Everything is so great about it - the people, the environment, education. I'm so proud to say I'm an Iowan. I'm living the dream. — Liang Chow

Yet the very name Ganga-Sagar, joining, as it did, river and sea, clear and dark, known and hidden, served to remind the migrants of the yawning chasm ahead; it was as if they were sitting balanced on the edge of a precipice, and the island were an outstretched limb of sacred Jambudvipa, their homeland, reaching out to keep them from tumbling into the void. — Amitav Ghosh

I think that's what finally stopped me. I slid right to the edge. My legs were hanging over. And I could feel it too. I don't know how. There was no wind, no sound, no change of temperature. There was just this terrible emptiness reaching up for me. — Mark Z. Danielewski

I jumped up from the bed and paced the small space in front of Romeo. He was absolutely nuts.
"Why the hell would you do that?" I asked.
Then I stubbed my toe on the edge of my desk.
"Ow!" I hissed and doubled over while bouncing around on one foot.
"You're like a one-woman show," Romeo remarked from behind me. His voice was clearly amused.
"I need my glasses," I muttered, hopping around and reaching for them somewhere near my bed. I knocked something over and it fell to the floor.
"Whoa there, graceful," Romeo said and scooped me up in his arms.
I let out a little squeak in surprise. "Put me down."
"No," he said mildly. "You are a danger to yourself."
I made a hmph sound and he snickered.
- Rimmel & Romeo — Cambria Hebert

You can go to hell!"
"Just because I'm going to hell doesn't mean you'll ever deserve her. — Tahereh Mafi

Sometimes when we're standing at the edge, we don't need anyone to talk us down ... we just need a push. — Buffi Neal

In one corner of the square is a manger scene with two live sheep, a bed of hay, a couple of cows. The baby Jesus is a brown-faced doll lying in his crib, but Mary and Joseph are real and dressed in period garb. Joseph hoists a staff, Mary sports her virginal blue robes. As I walked by the other day, Joseph balanced on the crib, light bulb in hand, reaching toward an electrical socket. Mary, I guess, was taking a break. She sat on the edge of the crib. Her blue robes were hiked high enough to reveal Doc Marten boots beneath. She sipped a can of Coke and smoked. — Laura Kelly

Upon reaching the preserve, everyone knew that the explanation of this incident was dreadfully imminent. With parents already on edge, the looming task of crafting a story out of thin air was one that was not only sickening, but would place a larger wedge between father and son. — K.N. Smith

Instead, he came to a skidding, terrified halt on the edge of a huge cliff. Steep sandy slopes fell away barely a mouse-length in front of his paws. Waves crashed at the bottom, and stretching out ahead of him was a heaving expanse of blue-green water. The sun was sinking into it on the horizon, its flames so bright that Brambleclaw had to narrow his eyes against them. The orange fire burned a path like blood across the water, almost reaching the foot of the cliff. — Erin Hunter

He was reaching that age, he was at the edge of it, when the world becomes suddenly more beautiful, when it reveals itself in a special way, in every detail, roof and wall, in the leaves of trees fluttering faintly before the rain. The world was opening itself, as if to allow, now that life was shortening, one long, passionate look, and all that had been withheld would finally be given. — James Salter

I think that's something a scientist can do because a scientist works at a border, at the edge of science, at the edge of knowledge, and so there's a lot of fun of reaching out and thinking about things that other people didn't think about. And so it has a kind of exploratory notion, kind of adventurous part in it. — Stefan Hell

Mom told me, "It probably gets pretty lonely to be Grandma, don't you think?" I told her, "It probably gets pretty lonely to be anyone. — Jonathan Safran Foer

I won't go," I whispered against his shoulder. "I'm not leaving you when you're sick."
"You're not leaving me." He peeled out of my embrace and faced the edge of the canopy. "I'm leaving you."
"Wait," I gasped, reaching for him. I wasn't ready to lose him to the night and the chaos of the zoo. But when Rafe glanced back at me, my hand froze. His eyes were now as luminous as a predator's. — Kat Falls