Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Epicenter. 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 Epicenter Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Douglas Adams,Carl Von Clausewitz,Horace,William Gibson,Henry Adams for you to enjoy and share.
Five wild Event Maelstroms swirled in vicious storms of unreason and spewed up a pavement.
To achieve victory we must mass our forces at the hub of all power and movement. The enemy's center of gravity
Whom has not the inspiring bowl made eloquent?
[Lat., Foecundi calices quem non fecere disertum.]
Nighttown, because the Pit's inverted, and the bottom of its bowl touches the sky, the sky that Nighttown never sees, sweating under its own firmament of acrylic resin, up where the Lo Teks crouch in the dark like gargoyles,
The outline of the city became frantic in its effort to explain something that defied meaning. Power seemed to have outgrown its servitude and to have asserted its freedom. The cylinder had exploded, and thrown great masses of stone and steam against the sky.
An event of colossal and overwhelming significance may happen all at once, but the words which describe it have to come one by one in a long chain.
I've been dealing with epic images, and I realized all of a sudden that I grew up in the age of epics.
All of us, each and every one, lives a life that is, in its own right, an epic.
Everybody lives an epic.
The sun, centre and sire of light, The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.
This is that eloquence the ancients represented as lightning, bearing down every opposer; this the power which has turned whole assemblies into astonishment, admiration and awe- - that is described by the torrent, the flame, and every other instance of irresistible impetuosity.
We are at an inflection point in history.
The true Epicurean cultivates the capacity to take pleasure in simple things, while those around him chase pleasure in more things.
Achieving the summit of a mountain was tangible, immutable, concrete. The incumbent hazards lent the activity a seriousness of purpose that was sorely missing from the rest of my life. I thrilled in the fresh perspective that came from the tipping the ordinary plane of existence on end.
an entire city swallowed by the earth...After
The centre of the system of the world is immovable.
Every year, August lashes out in volcanic fury, rising with the din of morning traffic, its great metallic wings smashing against the ground, heating the air with ever-increasing intensity.
What's it called when a hellhole hits a cataclysm? A catastro[phrack]. I just coined that, didn't I?
Placed on this isthmus of a middle state.
The showstopper! The icon! The main event!
The year swung past the fulcrum of another equinox.
Shun epic verse.
The top of the Great Pyramid [ ... ] there's no capstone on the pyramid. Till the year 2000 celebrations when George Bush [Snr.] and some of these guys put a phony one up there. See, they think they are going to have a new world order, and they probably are.
Affliction, like the iron-smith, shapes as it smites.
ZENITH, n. The point in the heavens directly overhead to a man standing or a growing cabbage. A man in bed or a cabbage in the pot is not considered as having a zenith, though Horizontalists hold that the posture of the body was immaterial.
The epic disappeared along with the age of personal heroism; there can be no epic with artillery.
A lone peak of high point is a natural focal point in the landscape, something by which both travelers and local orient themselves. In the continuum of landscape, mountains are discontinuity
culminating in high points, natural barriers, unearthly earth.
If the stillness is Volcanic
In the human face
When upon a pain Titanic
Features keep their place-
If at length the smoldering anguish
Will not overcome-
And the palpitating Vinyard
In the dust, be overthrown?
The firmament breaks up. In black eclipse Light after light goes out. One evil star, Luridly glaring through the smoke of war, As in the dream of the Apocalypse, Drags others down.
We live in the most epic of fantasy worlds.
A nation is born stoic, and dies epicurean
In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent.
You behold a range of exhausted volcanoes. Not a flame flickers on a single pallid crest.
The true epic of our times is not "Arm's and the Man," but "Tools and the Man"
an infinitely wider kind of epic.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
Acheron. When it absolutely, positively must be destroyed overnight.
Mr. Kaplan is the first traveler to take us on a journey to the jagged places where these tectonic plates meet, and his argument
that our future is being shaped far away 'at the ends of the earth'
makes his travelogue pertinent and compelling reading.
Even at midnight the city groans in the heat. We have had no rain for quite a while. The traffic sounds below ride the night air in waves of trigonometry, the cosine of a siren, the tangent of a sigh, a system, an axis, a logic to this chaos, yes.
Even wars, big conflicts that have drawn a lot of news coverage, sometimes seem to me to have a center that hasn't been described, that might yet be glimpsed if approached from some odd angle.
Dit is Pangaea. - Jake
The city is the nerve center of our civilization. It is also the storm center.
There was no center to the world. The curves of all our bells are cracked.
There emanates from superlatives a destructive force.
A star shoots bleeding across the skyline, a companion to the black wind. Silence comes sweeping across everything.
Around the hero everything turns into a tragedy, around the demigod, a satyr-play, and around God
what? perhaps a "world"?
The Edge ... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
The last resort of kings, the cannonball. The last resort of the people, the paving stone.
It is not society itself that the Epicurean recoils from; it is this society of unceasing struggle for more and more.
The arkleseizure cometh!
In excessive griefs, as in great tempests, the abyss is found between the tops of the loftiest waves
It's a fault line where the flotsam and energy that washes up from the Pacific collides with all of urban America crashing in from the other direction.
An Armageddon is approaching at the beginning of the third millennium. But it is not the cosmic war and fiery collapse of mankind foretold in sacred scripture. It is the wreckage of the planet by an exuberantly plentiful and ingenious humanity.
For what fortress, what city, in the wide extent of the Roman empire, can hope to exist, secure and impregnable, if it is our pleasure that it should be erased from the earth?
On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven a perfect round.
Mountain with a sweeping view of the mountain range. Under starlight,
The center of my earth is you
Someone had to record this. He couldn't spend the entire time worrying about her. So, he searched his mind for the right words to describe what he was seeing. He set aside words like "epic" and "momentous." They were nearly worn out with overuse.
This is the very center of everything there is. A huge black hole eating up the galaxy. The end of everything.
Westward the star of empire takes its way.
We want a story that starts out with an earthquake and works its way up to a climax.
The tap'ring pyramid, the Egyptian's pride, And wonder of the world, whose spiky top Has wounded the thick cloud.
Once you have been in an earthquake you know, even if you survive without a scratch, that like a stroke in the heart, it remains in the earth's breast, horribly potential, always promising to return, to hit you again, with an even more devastating force.
It screamed downward, splitting air and sky without effort. A target expanded in size, brought into focus by time and velocity. There was a moment before impact that was the last instant of things as they were. Then the visible world exploded.
All the old bindings are broken. Cosmological centers now are anywhere and everywhere. The earth is a heavenly body, most beautiful of all, and all poetry is now archaic that fails to match the wonder of this view.
The arenas are historic sites, preserved after the Games. Popular destinations for Capitol residents to visit, to vacation. Go for a month, rewatch the Games, tour the catacombs, visit the sites where the deaths took place. You can even take part in reenactments.
They say the food is excellent
Thus mysterious divine Pacific zones the world's whole bulk about; makes all coasts one Bay to it; seems heart-beating heart of earth.
A bad earthquake at once destroys the oldest associations: the world, the very emblem of all that is solid, has moved beneath our feet like a crust over a fluid; one second of time has conveyed to the mind a strange idea of insecurity, which hours of reflection would never have created.
You mean you have to be epic already, for it to make you more epic?
One felt that the mountains are not completed. The builders are still at work. Stones come rolling and jumping from the upper scaffolding and often from the chasms one hears the thundering as the gods of the mountains change their minds.
Epicurus ... whose genius surpassed all humankind, extinguished the light of others, as the stars are dimmed by the rising sun.
A thunder blazed from the hells now, and it touched the Earth's ground.Grim clouds floated across the vault of Earth. A heavy rain pelted against the revolving sphere, which made destructions a lot.Nature danced with a haunting pain in the midst of human deterioration.
I couldn't help but be impressed by the magnitude of the earthquake.
The sports arena Julie calls home is unaccountably large, perhaps one of those dual-event 'super venues' built for an era when the greatest quandary facing the world was where to put all the parties.
I'm one of those apocalyptics. From the start of my immigrant days, I've been fascinated by end-of-the-world stories, by outbreak narratives, and always wanted to set a world-ender on Hispaniola.
On the top of each peak you are on the edge of the abyss
Incontinent the void. The zenith. Evening again. When not night it will be evening. Death again of deathless day. On one hand embers. On the other ashes. Day without end won and lost. Unseen.
It is spectacular to watch an erupting volcano; but it is even much more spectacular to watch the rise of a newly exploding revolutionary idea!
The Commanding Heights
Feminine passion is to masculine as an epic is to an epigram.
Naples sitteth by the sea, keystone of an arch of azure.
The Warrior Elite,
Autumn of the Patriarch,
Each moment has its sickle, emulous Of Time's enormous scythe, whose ample sweep Strikes empires from the root.
Artillery raining fire on his tiny village Jabla on the Line of Control (LoC). War has numbed him, so has devastation. Yet nothing had prepared him for the havoc of Saturday morning. He was taking a nap, having had his pre-dawn Ramzan meal. At first there
The romance, mystery, intrigue, love, betrayal, and majesty of the greatest epic. As you read, I believe your spirit will soar and your
Exodia Obliterate!
There's something epic that happens every day if you look hard enough for it.
The equatorial line is, in fact, the centre of atmospheric motion.
Reaching and reached. Cassia
The sun, coming hard around the world: the island rises from the sea, sinks, rises, holds.
It is the lava of the imagination whose eruption prevents an earthquake.
A spark neglected has often raised a conflagration.
[Lat., Parva saepe scintilla contempta magnum excitavit incendium.]
It is certain," exclaimed my uncle in a tone of triumph. "But silence, do you hear me? silence upon the whole subject; and let no one get before us in this design of discovering the centre of the earth.
iconoclastically.
And the giants fall one by one, to fill the cup of Rot and Ruin. A city laid waste by the feats of man, never to rise again.
Centre of the centre, the real heart of Christianity as it has been until now.
Who has reached the extreme limits of scale with the same infallible precision, equally guarded against the false refinement of artificial elegance and the roughness of spurious force? Who has better known how to breathe anguish and dread into the purest and most exquisite forms?
Per ardua ad astra. Through adversity to the stars.
Where the poison wind blows a deadly plague spreading negativity, viciously unto every city.
The most emphatic place in a clause or sentence is the end. This is the climax; and, during the momentary pause that follows, that last word continues, as it were, to reverberate in the reader's mind. It has, in fact, the last word.