Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Interwoven. 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 Interwoven Quotes And Sayings by 100 Authors including Karen Witemeyer,Mata Amritanandamayi,Stephen King,Jennie Hansen,Blakney Francis for you to enjoy and share.
Only a master weaver could intertwine dark and light threads in such a way that all one saw was beauty when looking back at the finished tapestry.
We are all beads strung together on the same thread of love.
How infinite was love, twining in and out of hope and memory like a braid with three strong strands, so much the Bright Tower of every human's life and soul.
staggered on together. A dark shape
The webs spun by our existence had gracefully overlapped and knotted until you could not have one without the other. We were infinitely intertwined.
She was wired into my heart. Twisted and kinked and threaded right through.
Scraps of love
torn and tattered
faded, scattered
trashed
threads of hope
frayed and tangled
broken, mangled
dashed
backing, buttons
yarn and batting
quilted tenderly
wrapped up in
this warm repair
my patchwork family
An individual life is one thread in the tapestry and what is one thread compared to the whole?
Without my relatives, I am but a thread; together, we form a colorful and elaborate Persian carpet.
No, this is not a disentanglement from, but a progressive knotting into --
I am a link in a chain
Everything is deeply intertwingled.
The curious double strands in Farfrae's thread of life - the commercial and the romantic - were very distinct at times. Like the colours in a variegated cord those contrasts could be seen intertwisted, yet not mingling.
In ways and thoughts of weakness and of wrong, Threads turn to cords, and cords to cables strong.
The string connecting everything real and abstract in the universe is entangled in a thought and knotted in an idea.
We were skin to skin.
Mouth over mouth.
Mingled breaths.
Tangled bodies.
Heartbeat against heartbeat.
We fit perfectly together.
I felt the threads of connection between us - fragile filaments, so easily snapped. Like the poem at shift into his side, we were craving to fit inside the other, and is melting and reshaping could be deeper, more resilient.
Each of us is a unique thread, woven into the beautiful fabric, of our collective consciousness.
Often when we think we are knotting one thread, we are tying quite another.
A happy entanglement of warm limbs and warmer love. A physical and psychological merging that conjured a kind of inner light, a bio-emotional phosphorescence that was overwhelming in its gorgeousness.
Two separate branches had grown out of two different trees that had been growing side by side, and the branches had overlapped, wrapping around the other, the smaller branches tangling and intertwining. The branch from one tree had been damaged and was split at its base.
Rarest of all things on earth is the union in which both, by their contrasts, make harmonious their blending; each supplying the defects of the helpmate, and completing, by fusion, one strong human soul.
Tie my heart in Egyptian threads.
She was held together by a thread. Not even a strong fishing wire, but the kind of thread that could fray and break in the wind. A thread that could unravel at any moment, scattering and smashing all the pieces of her that she as trying desperately to keep together.
Hearts are connected by the slenderest of threads.
Like warp and woof all destinies
Are woven fast,
Linked in sympathy like the keys
Of an organ vast.
Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar;
Break but one
Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar
Through all will run.
Salt. Wound. Together at last.
Loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To everything on earth the compass round
Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
I used to think the life strands of my friends frayed around me, because mine was too strong. Now I realize that when we are wound together, we make something unbreakable. Something that lasts long after this life ends. My
The world is made of countless threads that connect all things. These threads give the world both its color and its life.
There's a thread that binds all of us together; pull one end of the thread, the strain is felt all down the line.
Around existence twine, (Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!) ropes of twisted vine.
Our life is woven wind.
Not on one strand are all life's jewels strung.
With each step and each turn, we threaded deeper inside a knot, one I feared we'd never work apart. The
I sense
a thousand strands of sorrow are sewn
into an inch of my spirit.
I was coming together...
limb by limb, after being broken
for an infinity.
When your thoughts, words, and deeds form a seamless fabric, you streamline your efforts and thus eliminate worry and dread.
Many strong emotions are actually intricate tapestries woven of various strands.
The iron chain and the silken cord are both equally bonds.
All of life is interconnected.
A life like an intricately woven basket, frayed, worn, broken, unraveled, reworked, reknit from many of its original pieces ... Life can survive in the constant shadow of illness, and even rise to moments of rampant joy, but the shadow remains, and one has to make space for it.
All of my creation is an effort to weave a web of connection with the world: I am always weaving it because it was once broken.
The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
Needle and thread flesh and bone Spit and sinew, heartbreak is home. Your suture lines, they sparkle like diamonds Bright stars to light my confinement Stitch,
A tangle, you know, is more powerful than a single thread alone.
The chain that's fixed to the throne of Jove, On which the fabric of our world depends, One link dissolved, the whole creation ends.
I feel a little whirl of dislocation
the trademark sensation of the world being more closely knit together than you expected
We are the light that needs no lifting,
as long as our flames burn we are interwoven.
A whisper within the heart is sufficient,
to perpetuate the wave that we began together,
beyond the fabric of the time we yet rest upon
The thread that ties us to the center is the hidden cord of the heart, it is the thread of genius that can connect the mind with the heart, that allows the mind to feel and reveals the thought set within the heart.
Intemperance weaves the winding-sheet of souls.
Love passed, the Muse appeared, the weather
of mind got clarity new-found;
now free, I once more weave together
emotion, thought, and magic sound.
Tangle me up like Grandma's yarn,
What a tangle love is.
This is how you unraveled me. Thread by thread. Until I was bare, Wearing nothing but my skin And my bones And my blood.
I merged so completely with love, and was so fused,
that I became Love and Love became me.
The threads of many beliefs can run side by side; from time to time they tangle, and mesh into a stronger rope.
The world has gotten so interwoven.
The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect.
Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.
It seemed to him that there was a scarlet thread running through the fabric of life, one that joined events across the years, piercing human hearts and plunging underground, only to reemerge without warning, a thread connecting lives and sometimes dates.
Each arm is intertwined into a story, the story of my life.
The disappointments that I had.
The life lessons learned.
And the pure soul wrenching love that I only dream to find one day.
...there was something in the texture of the weave that felt happy: the
echo of a memory so far down in his soul it was all emotion, a
burst of colour and warmth, adrift from time and place.
Though free to think and act, we are held together, like the stars in the firmament, with ties inseparable. These ties cannot be seen, but we can feel them.
Everything was illuminated. Everything was connected. Everything was one. Everything was love.
Like a spider web; the threads of her life had been woven since she was young, but she had no part in the loom's process.
Music (is) woven into the fabric of the corporeal world.
Each event touching another; like threads that design in concert, creating the fabric that is life.
Down the endless halls of quilt
My silver thread of tears is split.
My fingerbone the key that broke
My blood the oil that smooth the lock.
Together linkt with adamantine chains.
Everything is connected.
I am a Gordian knot. Don't unravel, just slice.
Red running through silver, joining into something darker.
We are chained, but you just don't realise it...
In the pun, two strings of thought are tangled into one acoustic knot.
We weave together the many skeins of our words,
Into poems and stories and books,
And the books are made so much more vivacious and colourful,
For all the care that is woven in along with the words.
stick together like shit on a shoe.
Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads.
We are all connected to each other, in a circle, in a hoop that never ends,
Our love has been the thread through the
labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust.
They were two halves that together formed a magical whole.
We have woven a web, you and I, attached to this world but a separate world of our own invention.
To express a marriage of two complementary colors, their mingling and their opposition, the mysterious vibrations of kindred tones ...
I am a hyphenated person, but I am not falling apart; I am putting together.
Each life reverberates in every other life. Whether or not we acknowledge it, we are connected, woven together in our needs and desires, rich and poor, men and women alike.
We were linked more than spiritually - but soul-glued and breath-bound.
The fabric of existence weaves itself whole.
No cord or cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as [love] can do with a single thread.
The rope connecting two men on a mountain is more than nylon protection; it is an organic thing that transmits subtle messages of intent and disposition from man to man; it is an extension of the tactile senses, a psychological bond, a wire along which currents of communication flow.
Merry kept talking, but he lost the thread. She wandered closer. With the knots banished, she gripped the tail of the rope in her fist, making an L of her arm and winding the length around her elbow in uniform loops. Rough, rasping rope against that smooth, perfect skin. And Rob on his knees.
The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable, to man's tender tie On earthly bliss; it breaks at every breeze.
a furtive groove
I have asked the village blacksmith to forge golden chains to tie our ankles together. I have gathered all the gay ribbons in the world to wind around and around and around and around and around and around again around our two waists.
The chain that bound her here was of iron links, and galling to her inmost soul, but could never be broken. It
Among the mighty store of wonderful chains that are for ever forging, day and night, in the cast iron-works of time and circumstance, there was one chain forged in the moment of that small conclusion, riveted to the foundations of heaven and earth, and gifted with invincible force to hold and drag.
Your twisting is done
you have the last thread of my heart. I wonder: when the thread grows slack, will you feel it?
The sea and the sky were welded together without a joint ...
Time was spinning numerous threads for its tapestry, some to be woven together, some to entangle or fray, others merely to perish and pass away.
What a richly colored strong warm coat is woven when love is the warp and work is the woof.