Ideas are great arrows, but there has to be a bow.
Isn't it time that these most ancient sorrows of ours grew fruitful? Time that we tenderly loosed ourselves from the loved one, and, unsteadily, survived: the way the arrow, suddenly all vector, survives the string to be more than itself. For abiding is nowhere.
Whatever you focus on, you become. That is the key line, you know. Meditation is the bow and concentration is the arrow.
Truth is as straight as an arrow, while a lie swivels like a snake.
The dimension of depth in the consciousness of religion creates the tension between what is and what ought to be. It bends the bow from which every arrow of moral action flies.
You may be obliged to wage war, but not to use poisoned arrows.
I take [all slings and arrows] for our movement so that we can have our country back.
THE SLOW ARROW OF BEAUTY. The noblest kind of beauty is that which does not transport us suddenly, which does not make stormy and intoxicating impressions such a kind easily arouses disgust but that which slowly filters into our minds.
It is from the remembrance of joys we have lost that the arrows of affliction are pointed.
Chain-mail isn't much defence against an arrow. It certainly isn't when the arrow is being aimed between your eyes.
It's like going into a nuclear war with bows and arrows.
As the arrow that leaves the bow cannot be recaptured, what we say, senselessly, about others causes us great harm.
My existence shrank from an arrow of light pointing into the future forever to a speck of light that was the present moment. I got better at living in that point of light, making the world into that point. I paid close attention to it. I loved it very much.
It is easy to shield the outer body from poisoned arrows, but it is impossible to shield the mind from the poisoned darts that originate within itself. Greed, anger, foolishness and the infatuations of egoism - these four poisoned darts originate within the mind and infect it with deadly poison.
Know that a word suddenly shot from the tongue is like an arrow shot from the bow. Son, that arrow won't turn back on its way; you must damn the torrent at its source.
And indeed it was, the arrow still protruding from its wet, grayish skin, humping its body along with incredible speed. A flick of its tail caught the edge of a statue, sending it flying into the dry ornamental pool, where it shattered into dust. “By the Angel, it just crushed Sophocles,” noted Will. “Has no one respect for the classics these days?
As the arrow endures the string, and in the gathering momentum becomes more than itself. Because to stay is to be nowhere.
I got to dress up in funny clothes and run around New Zealand with a bow and arrow for 18 months, how bad could that be?
My theory stands as firm as a rock; every arrow directed against it will return quickly to its archer. How do I know this? Because I have studied it from all sides for many years; because I have examined all objections which have ever been made against the infinite numbers; and above all because I have followed its roots, so to speak, to the first infallible cause of all created things.
To define [Canada] or its literature seems like putting a finger on Zeno's arrow: no sooner do you think you have done it than it has moved on.