Uncurling Quotes & Sayings

I used to think love could save anything, but it can't if the vessel's cracked. — Lorna Landvik

So what's the big picture about our lust for sex?
We're not trying to acquire something. We want to feel something: Alive. Electrically, intensely, blazingly alive. Good. Bad. Pleasure. Pain. Bring it on
all of it.
For people who live small, I guess enough of that can be found in sex.
But for those of us who live large, the most alive we ever feel is when we're punching air with a fist, uncurling our middle finger with a cool smile, and flipping Death the big old bird. — Karen Marie Moning

I'd commit suicide, if I could do it without killing myself. — Henny Youngman

He had the attitude that he could do anything, and therefore so can you. He put his life in my hands. So that made me do something I didn't think I could do ... If you trust him, you can do things. If he's decided that something should happen, then he's just going to make it happen. (Elizabeth Holmes) — Walter Isaacson

My hair is God's aura. Everything went up when I got home from the penitentiary. One night I went to lie down next to my wife, and my hair started popping and uncurling all on its own - ping, ping, ping, ping! I knew that it was God telling me to stay on the righteous path so he could one day pull me up to be there with him. — Don King

Affection is an overpowering craving to be compellingly sought. — Robert Frost

The world is alive with words. The animals, the trees, the grass, and the birds hum with their own words. "Life," they say. "Air," they breathe. "Heat," they hum. The birds call "Fly, fly!" and the leaves wave them onward, uncurling as they whisper "grow, grow." I — Amy Harmon

How many mysteries have you seen in your lifetime? How many nets pulled full over the boat's side, each silver body ready or not falling into submission? How many roses in early summer uncurling above the pale sands then falling back in unfathomable willingness? And what can you say? Glory to the rose and the leaf, to the seed, to the silver fish. Glory to time and the wild fields, and to joy. And to grief's shock and torpor, its near swoon. — Mary Oliver

Her eyes rounded. "They don't open until eleven."
"Unless you're me, and you strike up a conversation with the prep cook who starts work at seven."
"Ah."
"Get your mind out of the gutter," he said, uncurling his forefinger from around his own cup to point it at her. "His name is George and he has a wife and three kids."
"My mind's not in the gutter!" Well, not since she woke from a twenty-minute midnight doze during which she'd imagined herself stretched out on her bed, Gage standing at its foot, slowing stripping off his clothes.
He grinned at her, then reached into his front pocket to pull free a slim camera. Still juggling his coffee, he managed to bring the viewfinder to his eye and snap a shot. "I'll call it 'Guilty as Charged.'"
"That's an invasion of privacy," she said, frowning at him.
"I think that blush indicates that you've been mentally invading mine."
"Gage! — Christie Ridgway

Ina May Gaskin is the most important person in maternity care in North America, bar none. — Marsden Wagner

Ben's words called to my heart. Instead of responding with terror, it opened like a fist uncurling, as though it had been waiting twenty-six years just to hear his voice. — Anise Eden

An author is an artist who paints a picture in the imagination of the reader. — Darrell Case

After the first shock of recognition - a sudden sense of "this is what I'm going to write" - the novel starts to breed by itself; the process goes on solely in the mind, not on paper. I feel a kind of gentle development, an uncurling inside, and I know that the details are there already, that in fact I would see them plainly if I looked closer, but I prefer to wait until what is loosely called inspiration has completed the task for me. — Vladimir Nabokov

Our contemporary poverty is as transparent as glass and as invisible as the air. Our poverty is kilometer-long lines, the constant elbowing, spiteful officials, trains late without reason, the water cut off by some disaster (...), the monotony of living without any hope whatsoever, the decaying historic cities, the provinces emptying the rivers poisoned. Our poverty is the grace of the totalitarian state by whose grace we live. — Tadeusz Konwicki

I havent been doin much comic book writing for the last several years though, as Ive been writing television projects and a novel. — Bill Mumy

Reporters often forget that athletes are human beings. — Willie Stargell

This is my own experience. I have many memories of earlier times in which I was trained. When I was 18 years old I "awoke" in one moment, changing from a rebellious teenager into a seeker and teacher carrying esoteric knowledge that I had brought with me from earlier incarnations. Many Indigo Souls I have met are similar. These incarnations have provided particular training so that you could be of service at this unique juncture in history. — Ritama Davidson

Photography is an investigation of both the outer and the inner worlds. The first experiences with the camera involve looking at the world beyond the lens, trusting the instrument will 'capture' something 'seen.' The terms shoot and take are not accidental; they represent an attitude of conquest and appropriation. Only when the photographer grows into perception and creative impulse does the term make define a condition of empathy between the external and the internal events. — Ansel Adams

If I could go back I wouldn't change anything. If I was popular I would have never left my bubble. I wouldn't have ever tired to do anything different. I would have never become happy. — Taylor Swift

Maybe it was a sugar low or simply the hypocrisy of it all. Whatever it was, I was done playing nice. I stalked towards him, my fingers curling and uncurling. The bastard was going down. — Laura Thalassa

Eli knew stuff about buildings and architecture and the history of squatters' rights. In fact, he seemed to know something about everything. He didn't lecture or flaunt. Rather, it was as though his whole life he'd been quietly gathering treasures. Little nuggets and gems of things he had heard or seen or read, and he was just uncurling his fingers to share them. — Jessica Fechtor

A marine snail gliding through the familiar city. Only in a dream could I move so gently along with the small human heartbeat in rhythm with the tug tug heartbeat of the tugboat, and Paris unfolding, uncurling, in beautiful undulations. — Anais Nin

Judd's fists were so tight, he was in danger of fracturing his own bones. He understood why Brenna had needed to talk to Dorian. He even understood that the leopard saw Brenna as a young sister, not a potential lover. None of that made any difference. Judd wanted to be the one she turned to when in need.
Ice picks of pain shoved through his skull, dissonance so vicious it nearly shut down his consciousness. The countdown was getting inexorably closer to the end. Uncurling his fingers with sheer force of will, he watched the blood rush back in. Last night had made it clear that he'd already crossed too many lines, broken too many rules. Soon, it would be too late to draw back.
"Thank you, Dorian."
No, he would not pull back. Brenna was his. His to pleasure. And his to comfort ... — Nalini Singh

I didn't bring you up to speak as if your mouth were filled with sewage. — Diane Samuels

When he came down, he was slower, and clutching something his hand. He leapt down the last 5 feet or so and came over to me, uncurling his fingers. In his palm was something trembling and silky and the bright, delicious pale gold of apples; in the gloom of the jungle it looked like light itself. Uva nudged the thing with a finger and it turned over, and I could see it was a monkey of some sort, though no monkey I had ever seen before; it was only a few inches larger than one of the mice I had once been tasked with killing, and his face was a wrinkled black heart, its features pinched together but its eyes large and as blankly blue as a blind kitten's. It had tiny, perfectly formed hands, one of which was gripping its tail, which it had wrapped around itself and which was flamboyantly furred, its hair hanging like a fringe. — Hanya Yanagihara