Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Crumpled. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Crumpled Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including William Cowper,Gene Wolfe,Dj Khaled,Marie Kondo,Kurt Vonnegut for you to enjoy and share.
Man on the dubious waves of error toss'd.
his body close to the ground, he turned and
The key is: never fold.
Folding a garment often reminds me of the priests who carve Buddhist statues. They gaze intently at a piece of wood until they see the shape of the figure within it and carve the wood until it emerges.
Trout was deflated - neutralized. He dropped his arms, became child-like now.
I don't know what this is for anyway. I mean, let me tell you what I'm never going to say to any human being, ever: 'I had hunting season off-suit in the pocket, but I've had kicker trouble with that hand often enough to fold it.
I'm bent I'm not brokin'. I'm on my knees and I'm hoping that some one holds me tonight.
I even fold this mans underwear and I like it!
I felt the crumpled paper that had taken the place of my lungs expand as if released from a fist.
out. May propped the
You can't pick up the torn pages of a never written book.
Wanting nothing more than for it to unravel, unbind.
I have more folds than an origami convention.
I held my arm out in front of me and twisted it back and forth. Palm up. Palm down. Now you look fractured. Now you look whole.
He rolled the bloodied tape into a cylinder
Yielding, like ice about to melt.
His shirt, tie, and trousers were folded small as an apology on a faded blue-velvet chair.
He had curled himself up into a minature sphere in the farthest corner of the box, a fuzzy softball that would have fit eaisly into the palm of my hand.
He removed his unvaluable valuables and dumped his shirt, pants, and skivvies into a letter slot.
Just shred baby, shred.
What bends, can break.
It isn't time that folds, it's space.
The door opens behind me, and I'm so busted. Jamie towels off his hair. He looks down at the mattress. "Never thought of that," he says. The towel lands on our unused desk chair, and then he yanks his mattress down, too.
Laid out. It has the most beautiful
Even the air between them seemed to be dented, waiting to be straightened again.
Adrian had been felled by a Coach bag.
Zapped while zipping.
turned it over. "Your
I have woven a parachute out of everything broken.
I broke my arm trying to fold a bed. It wasn't the kind that folds.
Life's too short to fold fitted sheets!
pulled falling out of the tree right on
ragged clothing he had on was taken
Now the baby's in the trash heap balling.
wreck but Trot Nixon's fair ball nestled in his glove.
As the world becomes ever more crowded, so folding will become ever more important.
Her face collapsed like a bad poem
When crushed to your knees, it is best to dig in your heels.
There was a mattress, discolored and waterlogged, like a cartoon-strip drunk slumped against a pole.
Wriggled to avoid the lump that always seemed directly under
Oh, I'm bowed, but unbroken.
staggered on together. A dark shape
He fell like a marionette with the strings cut. Now!
A collection of takeout boxes slumped together like old men in bad weather.
Loose and forbear!
Tearing the paper means you've stopped believing in the infinite possibilities of a square.
You can't sweep something broken into a bag and call it whole. It takes repair.
Billings pulled a roll from a compartment in his cargo pants leg. We gawked at him in disbelief. He shrugged. What? You never know when you're going to need duct tape.
Naked, she lay sprawled on her side like a shipwrecked cello.
Dumped doesn't even begin to describe it. If you're going to use a trash metaphor, incinerated is more like it.
mashed into a casserole of wreckage that still smoked and burned.
This is how looseLoose-- Gary Keller
Ah, but what is form but a bum wipe anyhow?
Hold everything loosely.
I rolled myself up into a tight ball of resistance and it was thus that I went through my school years.
shut and slipped into
The bent but unbroken ones.
They that touch pitch will be defiled.
The act of folding is far more than making clothes compact for storage. It is an act of caring, an expression of love and appreciation for the way these clothes support your lifestyle. Therefore, when we fold, we should put our heart into it, thanking our clothes for protecting our bodies.
Jock put his shoulder to the framework and the whole thing crumbled inward with a crash of glass.
"Rotten as touch-wood," he said. "This place would never stand a siege.
Pain was a torn piece of paper.
I looked down and thought about how I was made of paper. I was the flimsy-foldable person, not everyone else.
paper fell out of the book. It was a page torn from
Aggle flabble kabble . . . snurp?
smeared a balm over the end of it.
In war, there are no unwounded
I have officially, absolutely collapsed inside.
We must scrunch or be scrunched.
We wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die:
to the right collapsed, further burying the former
Splattered all over the wall, come right up off his feet like a pulled puppet just
I'm pulverized by this latest thing!
Hand closed around the
In fact, to go through life without knowing how to fold is a huge loss.
People can hold out just so long and then they fold.
drawing pad. He withdrew it and
He had a newspaper rolled in his hand, bearing down on me like a puppy that had piddled on the carpet.
"Bad Chloe," I muttered.
"What?"
I'd forgotten his bionic hearing. "Bad Chloe." I gestured at the rolled-up paper and put
out my hand. "Get it over with.
Pushed forward. A flying elbow struck his cheekbone just below his
Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.
The material was wrinkled, yet even in the low light it remembered the shape of two bodies.
They hauled books from the shelves, flipped through the pages, and tossed them to the floor until an entire library of legal volumes lay with cracked spines across the Oriental rug.
Cushions had been sliced apart and were bleeding stuffing onto the floor.
The bookcase tipped and the book covers opened like wings over an underbelly of white feathers, dirty with ink.
He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled therewith.
I was taken down by a bench.
I pressed and I prayed. It was only right that pressing went with prayer. That and being sorry. Every wrinkle was a patch of sorry to be smoothed and flattened.
Yet each day, he managed to unravel and straighten himself, disgusted and thankful. Wrecked, but somehow not torn into pieces.
Her spine was the crease on a piece of paper, her bones no more than diagonal folds on a bit of origami
Beneath the sheet - which was already lower on his hips than should be legal
He
Was
Still
Hard
He went down like a cheerleader after prom.
Ben: You're gonna get arrested.
Lindsey Meeks: You can't sell your tickets!
Ben: That's why you ran across the whole field? ... Wait, you've got to tell me - was it spongy?
The freshness of an unworn garment in her hands couldn't extinguish the feeling that she was a damaged, hole-ridden item, thrown to the back of a closet to be forgotten.
. . . a shrunken old man, squashed into the chair like a stubbed-out cigarette.
horizontally compressed
The zip on the pitch is very zippy
I tossed it on a pile with the coat, my stiff-with-cold jeans and the expensive scrap of silk that had been wedged up my ass for the past half hour.
It was like removing layers of crumpled brown paper from an awkwardly shaped parcel, and revealing the attractive present which it contained.
Books. They tumbled from the bleeding sky like wounded birds. The spines snapping open and the pages fanning white. Black letters slipping off the slanted pages and falling, falling to the ground where they ... Shatter.
One is either packed or unpacked. There is no middle ground.
Abandoned like an empty beer bottle, cigarette butt, worn-out shoe.