I was in a maze. No matter which way I turned, it was the wrong way.
no reason to mention my peculiarities, my wandering in the maze these many years, shut away from sight. and from love, too.
Most of us make unconscious choices in the words that we use; we sleep-walk through the maze of possibilities available to us.
I know no other way out of what is both the maze of the eternal present and the prison of the self except with a string of words.
I suppose it’s easier to see the way out of anything when you’ve found your way out of that maze. When you’re stuck in the middle, in a series of dead-ends making circles, it’s difficult to make any sense of anything.
A mighty maze! But not without a plan.
Having to wander through a maze of ropes at an airport or bank even when you are the only person in line.
We are born into a world in which sexual possibilities are narrowly circumscribed. . . . We are programmed by the culture as surely as rats are programmed to make the arduous way through the scientist's maze, and that programming operates on every level of choice and action.
If certain women walk straight into adultery, there are many others who cling to numerous hopes, and commit sin only after wandering through a maze of sorrows.
You're this rat in the American maze, working your way towards the cheese, which is a job.
If then, your world be such a baffling riddle, it is because you are that baffling riddle. And if your speech be such a woeful maze, it is because you are that woeful maze.
Life is a maze in which we take the wrong turning before we have learned to walk.
Mickey Cohen: New York, its like being a rat in a maze, everyone living on top of each other, but out here, I can breathe. I love Los Angeles.
Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.
A man's dreams are a maze even he cannot know.
I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze I cannot get out, said the starling
I was Pac-Man. It was the worst costume ever. You would expect a big round suit, but it was just a mask and a smock with a maze on it.
Happiness, that grand mistress of the ceremonies in the dance of life, impels us through all its mazes and meanderings, but leads none of us by the same route.
Nothing is as depressing as absolute logic. Look at the maze of French politics perpetrated by a logical people.
It will be easy for us once we receive the ball of yarn from Ariadne (love) and then go through all the mazes of the labyrinth (life) and kill the monster. But how many are there who plunge into life (the labyrinth) without taking that precaution?
