Spindle Quotes & Sayings

The grotto itself comprises its own slick universe, and inside this universe spin countless galaxies: here, in the upturned half of a single mussel shell, lives a barnacle and a tiny spindle shell occupied by a still smaller hermit crab. And on the shell of the crab? A yet smaller barnacle. And on that barnacle? — Anthony Doerr

Do not fold, spindle or mutilate. — Charles Lamb

The question is, Miss Finch ... what are you doing in this village?"
"I've been trying to explain it to you. We have a community of ladies here in Spindle Cove, and we support one another with friendship, intellectual stimulation, and healthful living."
"No, no. I can see how this might appeal to a mousy, awkward chit with no prospects for something better. But what are you doing here?"
Perplexed, she turned her gloved hands palms-up. "Living happily."
"Really," he said, giving her a skeptical look. Even his horse snorted in seeming disbelief. "A woman like you."
She bristled. Just what kind of woman did he think she was?
"If you think yourself content with no man in your life, Miss Finch, that only proves one thing." In a swift motion, he pulled himself into the saddle. His next words were spoken down at her, making her feel small and patronized. "You've been meeting all the wrong men. — Tessa Dare

She handed Lord Payne a steaming cup, and he took an immediate, reckless draught. A devilish smile curved her way. "Gunpowder tea? Well done, Miss Finch. I do enjoy a lady with a sense of humor."
Now this one ... he was a rake. It was written all over him, in his fine dress and flirtatious manner. He might as well have had the word embroidered on his waistcoat, between the gold-thread flourishes. She knew all about men of his sort. Half the young ladies in Spindle Cove were either fleeing them or pining for them. — Tessa Dare

All I have is intuition and a little hope." "Don't be such a pessimist. You've also got two tires, two garbage bags, and a hollow spindle. — Stephen King

In 1951, the Columbia University sociologist C. Wright Mills published a study titled White Collar: The American Middle Classes.26 Like Ronald Coase, Mills was fascinated by the rise of large managerial corporations. He argued that these firms, in their pursuit of scale and efficiency, had created a vast tier of workers who carried out repetitive, mechanistic tasks that stifled their imagination and, ultimately, their ability to fully participate in society. In short, Mills argued, the typical corporate worker was alienated. For many, that alienation was captured in the warning printed on the Hollerith punch cards that, thanks to IBM and other data processing firms, became ubiquitous symbols and agents of bureaucratized life during the 1950s and 1960s: "Do Not Fold, Spindle, or Mutilate. — Moises Naim

Among the Bridgeburners, names had emerged. The survivors, mostly squad sergeants, names that pushed their way into the Malazan armies on Genabackis, and beyond. Names, spicing the already sweeping legend of Onearm's Host. Detoran, Antsy, Spindle, Whiskeyjack. Names heavy with glory and bitter with the cynicism that every army feeds on. — Steven Erikson

He rubbed his unshaven chin with the back of his hand. Beyond the gates lay a life he had been forbidden. He tightened his grip on the satchel and walked spindle-legged over the sodden ground, glancing at the numerous closed doors on either side of the passage, expecting one to open at any moment. The walls echoed as he splashed through puddles of oil and water. He reached the gates, allowed himself a deep breath, and squinted through the ironwork. — Richard A. Kirk

Eustacia Vye was the raw material of a divinity. On Olympus she would have done well with a little preparation. She had the passions and instincts which make a model goddess, that is, those which make not quite a model woman. Had it been possible for the earth and mankind to be entirely in her grasp for a while, she had handled the distaff, the spindle, and the shears at her own free will, few in the world would have noticed the change of government. There would have been the same inequality of lot, the same heaping up of favors here, of contumely there, the same generosity before justice, the same perpetual dilemmas, the same captious alteration of caresses and blows that we endure now. — Thomas Hardy

So many fairy tales were about breaking taboos, and being punished for crossing lines you shouldn't have crossed.
Touching a spindle you were forbidden to touch. Inviting a witch into your cottage, and accepting the shiny apples she brought you, even though you knew better, because you wanted them.
And while most heroes or heroines managed to scratch or scheme their way out of peril, it was easier to avoid doing something stupid in the first place. Smarter, better, and infinitely less fraught with regret. — Sarah Cross

So in order to cope, I pick locks, shoplift, pick pockets, mug people, panhandle, break and enter, steal cars, lie, fold, spindle, and mutilate. You name it, I've done it — Audrey Niffenegger

27. Trees
I shall say absolutely nothing about the spindle tree. — Sei Shonagon

There are little wisps of jelly in a living brain. Deagle knows this well: neurons, transmitting signals - and the soul, so to speak, is somewhere in those flashes. He heard once on a science program that the spindle cell - present in humans, whales, some apes, elephants - may be at the heart of what we call our "selves."
What we recognize in the mirror - that thread we follow through time that we call "me"? It's just a diatom, a paramecium, a bit of ganglia that branches and shudders assertively. A brief brain orgasm, like lightning.
In short, it's all chemicals. You can regiment it easily enough: fluoxetine, sertraline, paroxetine, escitalopram, citalopram - the brain can be washed clean, and you can reset yourself, Ctrl+Alt+Del. You don't have to be a prisoner of your memories and emotions. — Dan Chaon

You are right. I have no idea, and it is none of my business, and I was taught to obey my parents. But sometimes it is just impossible to obey blindly.
Sometimes a child must strike out on her own. A child cannot be a child forever, whether that means not touching a spindle or ... or ... — Alex Flinn

He was tall, but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together. His head was small, and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock perched upon his spindle neck to tell which way the wind blew. To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. — Washington Irving

If have got my spindle and my distaff ready
my pen and mind
never doubting for an instant that God will send me flax. — J.G. Holland

And sing to those that hold the vital shears; And turn the adamantine spindle round, On which the fate of gods and men is wound. — John Milton

What you describe is how it happens to everyone: magic does slide through you, and disappear, and come back later looking like something else. And I'm sorry to tell you this, but where your magic lives will always be a great dark space with scraps you fumble for. You must learn to sniff them out in the dark. — Robin McKinley

So you like to stretch the truth?" he asked me. "Stretch, fold, spindle, staple or cut, whatever it takes to get it to fit just right". — Neil Leckman

That which will not be spun, let it not come betweene the spindle and the distaffe. — George Herbert

So I will just tell you I love you. I love you, Bram. I want everyone to see it, and I want you to know . . . you're a part of this place now. No matter where duty takes you, Spindle Cove will always be here for you. And so will I." He put both arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest. "You beautiful, brazen thing." Then he went silent, just holding her gaze for what seemed like eons. Nerves multiplied in her stomach with every passing second. She swallowed hard. "Don't you have anything else to say?"" 'Hallelujah' springs to mind. Beyond that . . ." He brushed a caress down her cheek. "Does this mean that if I proposed marriage to you right now, you might not make that twisty, unhappy face?" "Try me and see. — Tessa Dare

The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood A mother bears a beautiful daughter who is cursed by an old fairy: the daughter will grow up, prick her hand on a spindle, and die. A young fairy modifies the curse: Beauty will not die, but only sleep until a prince kisses her. They marry, but the prince's mother, an ogre, tries to kill Sleeping Beauty and her children; the ogress fails and the prince kills his mother. — Jeri Studebaker

Stripped of the cunning artifices of the tailor, and standing forth in the garb of Eden - what a sorry set of round-shouldered, spindle-shanked, crane-necked varlets would civilized men appear! — Herman Melville

Nuclear didn't describe families. How could it? Dry physics was not equal to that task. In the twentieth century we needed a biological metaphor, Darwinian in scope, to suggest the gnash and crash of carnivorous life in the family gene pool. But for the 21st century, the new century, I think the metaphors must be chemical. Molecular. In the molecular family people are connected without being bound. They spindle themselves around shared experiences and affections rather than splashing in the shared gene pool. — Laura Kalpakian

Threads that drift alone will sometimes simply twine themselves together, without need for spindle or distaff: brought into each other's ambit, they bind themselves tight with the force of their own torsion. And this same torsion can, in the course of things, bundle the resulting cord back upon itself, ravelling it up into a skein, returning to the point of its beginning. — Jo Baker

Magic happens when the wand of language strikes a stone and makes it melt, touches a spindle and turns it into gold, or taps a trunk and makes it fly. By drawing on a syntax of enchantment that conjures fluidity, ethereality, flimsiness, and transparency, writers turn solidity into resplendent airy lightness to produce miracles of linguistic transubstantiation.

What is the effect of that beauty? How do readers respond to words that create that beauty? In a world that has discredited that particular attribute and banished it from high art, beauty has nonetheless held on to its enlivening power in children's books. It draws readers in, then draws them to understand the fictional worlds it lights up. — Maria Tatar

But he wasn't going for the sake of corruption or the kingdom. His tower was broken, he'd drunk Spindle-water, and he'd held my hand. So now he was going to run away as quick as he could, and find himself some new stone walls to hide behind. He'd keep himself locked away for ten years this time, until he withered his own roots, and didn't feel the lack of them anymore. — Naomi Novik

A man of great memory without learning hath a rock and a spindle and no staff to spin. — George Herbert

Because men
are killing the forests
the fairy tales are running away.
The spindle doesn't know
whom to prick,
the little girl's hands
that her father has chopped off,
haven't a single tree to catch hold of,
the third wish remains unspoken.
King Thrushbeard no longer owns one thing.
Children can no longer get lost.
The number seven means no more than exactly seven.
Because men have killed the forests,
the fairy tales are trotting off to the cities
and end badly. — Gunter Grass

One by one, they guessed aloud about what Lotto had meant by this sculpture: nautilus, fiddlehead, galaxy. Thread running off its spindle. Forces of nature, perfect in beauty, perfectly ephemeral, they guessed. He was too shy to say time. He'd woken with a dry tongue and the urge to make the abstract concrete, to build his new understanding: that this was the way that time was, a spiral. — Lauren Groff

Twenty unsettling minutes later she dropped the
pen on her stack of papers, and then leaned back in her chair. The time seemed to be dragging like a immobile car without tires hooked to a tow-truck with square wheels traveling cautiously down a road of fresh gravel. Tess struggled to maintain focus, similar to how an alternator belt would struggle if it had to try to keep traction on a turn spindle that had been lubricated after an antifreeze leak. And similar to the - would be - alternator on the sidelines of that metaphor, Tess's enthusiasm for her after hours work was having difficulty in keeping charged up also. — Calvin W. Allison

Blessed is that man who knows his own distaff and has found his own spindle. — J.G. Holland

Like Beauty. But she only pricked her finger. I had a spindle through my heart. — Francesca Lia Block

Feel that?" he growled.
She nodded. Good Lord, how could she not?
"I've been hard for you for days, Minerva. Since before we even left Spindle Cove. If you believe nothing else, believe this." He rocked against her. "This doesn't lie. — Tessa Dare

I'm like Sleeping Beauty drawn to the spindle I know I shouldn't touch. — Melissa Collins

I saw opportunity appear in an ugly six-spindle shake machine ... and grabbed it. — Ray Kroc

Their lives spun off the tilting world like thread off a spindle, breakfast time, suppertime, lilac time, apple time. — Marilynne Robinson

I don't know why no one ever thought to paste a label on the toilet-tissue spindle giving 1-2-3 directions for replacing the tissue on it. Then everyone in the house would know what Mama knows. — Erma Bombeck