The Tumbler Quotes & Sayings

Consider that the earth is a processing plant, a factory. Picture a tumbler used to polish rocks: a rolling drum filled with water and sand. Consider that your soul is dropped in as an ugly rock, some raw mineral or natural resource, crude oil, mineral ore. And all conflict and pain is the abrasive that rubs us, polishes our soul, refines us, teaches and finishes us over lifetime after lifetime. — Chuck Palahniuk

I spent the rest of my day picturing how I'd kill Amy. It was all I could think of: finding a way to end her. Me smashing in Amy's busy, busy brain. I had to give Amy her due: I may have been dozing the past few years, but I was fucking wide awake now. I was electric again, like I had been in the early days of our marriage...
Andie had screwed me over, Marybeth had turned against me, Go had lost a crucial measure of faith. Boney had trapped me. Amy had destroyed me. I poured a drink. I took a slug, tightened my fingers around the curves of the tumbler, then hurled it at the wall, watched the glass burst into fireworks, heard the tremendous shatter, smelled the cloud of bourbon. Rage in all five senses. Those fucking bitches. — Gillian Flynn

And perhaps there is a limit to the grieving that the human heart can do. As when one adds salt to a tumbler of water, there comes a point where simply no more will be absorbed. — Sarah Waters

He who drinks a tumbler of London water has literally in his stomach more animated beings than there are men, women, and children on the face of the globe. — Sydney Smith

Carl just needed to hear the clink of glasses, the glug of a drink being poured. I picked up the phone, shaking a tumbler of ice near the receiver so Carl could imagine his gin. — Gillian Flynn

Sunshine of late afternoon
On the glass tray
a glass pitcher, the tumbler
turned down, by which
a key is lying
And the
immaculate white bed — William Carlos Williams

Attention words. A single word wasn't enough. Not even for a particular segment. The brain had defenses, filters evolved over millions of years to protect against manipulation. The first was perception, the process of funneling an ocean of sensory input down to a few key data packages worthy of study by the cerebral cortex. When data got by the perception filter, it received attention. And she saw now that it must be like that all the way down: There must be words to attack each filter. Attention words and then maybe desire words and logic words and urgency words and command words. This was what they were teaching her. How to craft a string of words that would disable the filters one by one, unlocking each mental tumbler until the mind's last door swung open. — Max Barry

Grief doesn't come in a landslide. It seeps in,while you are sleeping. First you start in dreaming. Then your wake-up time carries over the sadness. And last your whole days are filled like a tumbler of water,filled with an aching that drips over the edge and doesn't have anywhere to go. — Jerrie Oughton

Piss!" shouted Kosta, hoisting his tumbler toward Cosetta, who nearly came apart at the joints with the resulting fit of giggles.
"Thank you, Ravelle, for this gift of a daughter who will now be up all night repeating that word ... — Scott Lynch

We all have to go through the tumbler a few times before we can emerge as a crystal. — Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

A book is like a key that fits into the tumbler of the soul. The two parts have to match in order for each to unlock. Then - click - a world opens. — Brad Kessler

This is wine," Ghoolion said solemnly. "Wine is drinkable sunlight. It's the most glorious summer's day imaginable, captured in a bottle. Wine can be a melody in a cut-glass goblet, but it can also be a cacophony in a dirty tumbler, or a rainy autumn night, or a funeral march that scorches your tongue. — Walter Moers

Auschwitz?! That is a name I had heard before. There is not much time for thinking. It had been raining here not so long ago. The asphalt of the wet, wide platform reflects the light of the high lighting-poles. The row of armed SS men competes in howling with their dogs they hold on leashes — Azriel Feuerstein

You can use WordPress as your blogging platform which is really easy to use and it has many good free theme designs for those starting out. You can also use Blogger or Tumbler, but WordPress is brilliant because of the many plugins which are available. — H. Jayne

He poured the tumbler full. Drink up, he said. The world goes on. We have dancing nightly and this night is no exception. The straight and the winding way are one and now that you are here what do the years count since last we two met together? Men's memories are uncertain and the past that was differs little from the past that was not. — Cormac McCarthy

I loved the way drink made me feel, and I loved it's special power of deflection, it's ability to shift my focus away from my own awareness of self and onto something else, something less painful than my own feelings. I loved the sounds of drink: the slide of a cork as it eased out of a wine bottle, the distinct glug-glug of booze pouring into a glass, the clatter of ice cubes in a tumbler. I loved the rituals, the camaraderie of drinking with others, the warming, melting feeling of ease and courage it gave me. — Caroline Knapp

Bring in the bottled lightning, a clean tumbler, and a corkscrew. — Charles Dickens

Bringing up children, she thought, was like pouring ginger beer into a tumbler. All went well up to a certain point, and then it all frothed over the top. — Elizabeth Goudge

My right foot hits the ground first, but my left one's gone AWOL, and I'm cartwheeling, my body mapped by local explosions of pain
ankle, knee, elbow
shit, my left ski's gone, whipped off, vamoosed
ground-woods-sky, ground-woods-sky ground-woods-sky, a faceful of gravelly snow; dice in a tumbler; apples in a tumble dryer, a grunt, a groan, a plea, a shiiiiiiiiit ...
[ ... ]
Gravity, velocity, and the ground; stopping is going to cost a fortune and the only acceptable currency is pain. — David Mitchell

Was a little embarrassed after I dressed and sat down to review my schoolwork. She had a large tumbler of imported sherry and poured me a small glass. The Jerez sherry was an indulgence she had learned during the two years she had lived in Barcelona and Ibiza. She pushed the schoolwork aside and started to talk, more a slangish monologue than a lecture: "I certainly don't believe that story about you screwing a pheasant-hunter but that's your business, and right now it should matter to no one except you. You're going to have a hard time, because you are lovely and your body is as fine as I've seen." I objected to this as ugly and irrelevant but she went on: "You have to study extremely hard and find some subject or profession you're obsessed with because in our culture it has been very hard on the attractive women I know. They are leered at, teased, abused, set on a pedestal, and no one takes them seriously, so you have to use all your energies to develop — Jim Harrison

No, Katie never fumbled. When she used her beautifully shaped but worn-looking hands, she used them with surety, whether it was to put a broken flower into a tumbler of water with one true gesture, or to wring out a scrub cloth with one decisive motion
the right hand turning in, and the left out, simultaneously. When she spoke, she spoke truly with the plain right words. And her thoughts walked in a clear uncompromising line. — Betty Smith

Do you prefer fermented or distilled?
This is a trick question. It doesn't matter how much you like wine, because wine is social and writing is anti-social. This is a writer's interview, writing is a lonely job, and spirits are the lubricant of the lonely. You might say all drinking is supposed to be social but there's a difference, at one in the morning while you're hunched over your computer, between opening up a bottle of Chardonnay and pouring two-fingers of bourbon into a tumbler. A gin martini, of course, splits the difference nicely, keeping you from feeling like a deadline reporter with a smoldering cigarette while still reminding you that your job is to be interesting for a living. Anyone who suggests you can make a martini with vodka, by the way, is probably in need of electroconvulsive therapy. — Stuart Connelly

Hey, I'm still the walking wounded, you know," he protested.
"You were shot on the other side," Rosie said drily. "And since when do you and Dalton agree on anything?"
"We are men." Pip and Dalton straightened up. "We settle out differences through fighting and drink." He held up the fine crystal tumbler, then frowned at it. "Though maybe not in this kind of glass. — Lara Morgan

Fathers are ...
The teeth on a saw,
The head of a nail,
The blades on a mower.
Fathers are ...
The grit in a tumbler,
The cement in the pit,
The coin for the machine.
Fathers are ...
The air in the tires,
The spring in the suspension,
The key to the ignition.
Fathers are ...
the confidence in a dare,
The energy of a command,
The boots for the trail.
Tis true you might make things work without them,
but not at all like they were meant to. — Richelle E. Goodrich

I used to cheerlead in high school, and I had the biggest crush on one of my teammates' brothers. I was a great tumbler, so when he showed up at practice one day, I tried to impress him, but I ended up landing on my face! When I got off the ground, I had rug burn on my nose. I was in tears because it hurt so bad! — Josie Loren

How would it alter Juliet's love perception to learn the sea is but a rounded jug of water? Would her sensuous analogy turned simple simile unveil to her the limits of herself? Or would she forget the ocean, that deplorable casket, and turn on the true bottomless tumbler, the only running tap: the sky? It may have lost the title 'heavens' when its gods were dethroned, but its infinity reigns. So long as you walk, it reigns. So long as I talk and you listen, there's a voice and ears to keep it active, moving, and reason to say: look! infinity lives. And when we and the other consciousnesses pass, though it in part dies with us, still it reigns. It will, in a sense, plod on, like a lifeless coffin through its own space, sails set for nothing, unstoppable when trailing its fabric. — Richard Ronald Allan

Perhaps the most impressive illustration of all is to suppose that you could label the molecules in a tumbler of water ... threw it anywhere you please on the earth, and went away from the earth for a few million years while all the water on the earth, the oceans, rivers, lakes and clouds had had time to mix up perfectly. Now supposing that perfect mixing had taken place, you come back to earth and draw a similar tumbler of water from the nearest tap, how many of those marked molecules would you expect to find in it? Well, the answer is 2000. There are 2000 times more molecules in a tumbler of water than there are tumblers of water in the whole earth. — Francis William Aston

Are you not afraid of death?'
I am not in the least afraid! ... I would rather die than drink that bitter medicine.'
At that moment the door of the room flew open, and four rabbits as black as ink entered carrying on their shoulders a little bier.
What do you want with me?' cried Pinocchio, sitting up in bed in a great fright.
We are come to take you,' said the biggest rabbit.
To take me? ... But I am not yet dead! ... '
No, not yet: but you have only a few minutes to live, as you have refused the medicine that would have cured you of the fever.'
Oh, Fairy, Fairy!' the puppet then began to scream, 'give me the tumbler at once ... be quick, for pity's sake, for I will not die
no ... I will not die ... — Carlo Collodi

Pouter, tumbler, and fantail are from the same source; The racer and hack may be traced to one Horse; So men were developed from monkeys of course, Which nobody can deny. — Bill Vaughan

In a further effort to be helpful, I tried to pry the dentures apart. But Rajkumar had grown impatient and he snatched the tumbler from me. It was only after he had thrust his teeth into his mouth that he discovered that Uma's dentures were clamped within his. And then, as he was sitting there, staring in round-eyed befuddlement at the pink jaws that were protruding out of his own, an astonishing thing happened - Uma leaned forward and fastened her mouth on her own teeth. Their mouths clung to each other and they shut their eyes. — Amitav Ghosh

In the big factory of perfecting human souls, the Earth was a kind of tumbler. The same as the kind people use to polish rocks. All souls come here to rub the sharp edges off each other. All of us, we're meant to be worn smooth by conflict and pain of every kind. To be polished. There was nothing bad about this. This wasn't suffering, it was erosion.It was just another, a basic, an important step in the refining process. — Chuck Palahniuk

The air was soft, as it often was in this lovely month, and Eddie inhaled its sweetness. He found himself uplifted as he worked, caught up in something outside himself and his petty wants and needs. The clouds drifted like ice in a tumbler. Through his lens the river seemed made of light, there was the shimmer, and for a moment the world seemed whole to him. — Alice Hoffman

He set his whisky tumbler on the table, but kept his fingers around it. "What do you see in my eyes?"...
"Tell me, lass," he urged softly.
She suddenly understood the term 'old soul,' because one sat before her now. And, as if opening a book, she caught a glimpse of Asher. The words then tumbled out of her mouth. "Endlessness. Sorrow. Agony. Distress. Rage. — Donna Grant

So sometimes life puts a giant plate of steaming hot blueberry fucking pancakes on your table. It's still down to you whether to eat them or say, 'No, thanks.' You can walk away from shite or pancakes. Wait for the next course, see if something tastier comes along." "But it's better, you think, to seize the pancakes?" "Aye!" John raised his empty tumbler to the approaching waitress. "Carpe pancakes! — Avery Cockburn

He would have lied to himself as facilely as an alcoholic lies to himself to justify the 10 a.m. tumbler of vodka : it may be early here, but in Baghdad it's almost evening. — Peter Benchley

Three more awards received in 2017
Gold for Seb Cage Begins His Adventures
Gold for The Time Slipsters
Silver for The Deaduction Agency — Terry Tumbler

I cannot be a monk, nor a crusader, nor a tumbler. I must stay here and hem sheets until I die. My humors are greatly out of balance. I prescribe for myself wormwood and spiced wine and some of the custard left from supper, and I will let all of the dogs sleep in my bed. — Karen Cushman

She reached toward the chessboard, and he caught her hand in his. "Believe me," he whispered. "When I wish to be, I can be very convincing." He followed the seam of her fingers with this thumb, tracing slowly upward until he reached the soft cleft below her knuckles. He watched as her eyes widened and her lips parted. Then he stroked the spot lightly - a quick, circular caress - and she made a little sound, half gasp and half sigh. That little sound - that tiny, panting breath - was very nearly his undoing. Jeremy knew that sound. It was the tumbler of a lock falling in place, the charged crackle between lightning and thunderbolt, the hiss of a candlewick the instant before it comes alive with flame. An incomplete sound. A sound that promised - and begged for - more. — Tessa Dare

I was a gymnast when I was younger. My parents put me in gymnastics, and I was actually only good at the floor. I was terrible at everything else, especially beam. Unfortunately, you can't be a gymnast unless you're good at all of the apparatuses, so I became a competitive cheerleader. I was just the main tumbler for my squad. — Josie Loren

Those of us directed towards the right were lined up in threes with much shooting and beating. I was in the first row, at the platform's edge. Suddenly, we see a group of older women and women with children nearing the road, under the platform. In the first row I see my mother supported on both sides by two friends. She too becomes aware of me. And out of the throat of this reticent, soft-spoken woman who I don't remember ever raising her voice, breaks out a terrible, desperate, piercingly loud, howling shout: 'GYURIKA!!! — Azriel Feuerstein