Quotes about spun (16 Quotes)



    I spun, I wove, I kept the house, I nursed the sick,
    I made the garden, and for holiday
    Rambled over the fields where sang the larks,
    And by Spoon River gathering many a shell,
    And many a flower and medicinal weed--
    Shouting to the wooded hills, singing to the green valleys.



    ...mathematics is distinguished from all other sciences except only ethics, in standing in no need of ethics. Every other science, even logic, especially in its early stages, is in danger of evaporating into airy nothingness, degenerating, as the Germans say, into an arachnoid film, spun from the stuff that dreams are made of. There is no such danger for pure mathematics for that is precisely what mathematics ought to be.


    Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are mire, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Help waste a sullen day, what may be won From the hard season gaining Time will run On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air He who of those delights can judge, and spare To interpose them oft, is not unwise.


    The two-piece ball I switched to spun too much. One shot would go the distance I thought it should, then the next one would fall short, and then the next one would go long.

    Father-Mother spin a web whose upper end is fastened to spirit - the light of the one darkness - and the lower one to its shadowy end, matter and this web is the universe spun out of the two substances made in one.

    The Bible is the most betrashed book in the world. Coming to it through commentaries is much like looking at a landscape through garret windows, over which generations of unmolested spiders have spun their webs.




    The war of words is done The red-lipped cannon speak The battle has begun. The web your speeches spun Tears and blood shall streak The war of words is done. Smoke enshrouds the sun Earth staggers at the shriek Of battle new begun. Poltroons and braggarts run Woe to the poor, the meek The war of words is done. 'And hope not now to shun The doom that dogs the weak,' Thunders every gun 'Victory must be won.' When the red-lipped cannon speak, The war of words is done, The slaughter has begun.


    Believing, with Max Weber, that man is an animal suspended in webs of significance he himself has spun, I take culture to be those webs, and the analysis of it to be therefore not an experimental science in search of law but an interpretive one in search of meaning.



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