Enjoying the least things - a chill glass of water, a moment of play with the cat, the sight of sunlight caught in the frost spangling the locust twigs - is a form of prayer.
It's really difficult to have your voice heard and feared when you both speak softly and carry a twig.
I don't throw my body down on the stage at all anymore because I'm sure I'd snap like a twig.
It rasped her, though, to have stirring about in her this brutal monster! to hear twigs cracking and feel hooves planted down in the depths of that leaf-encumbered forest, the soul; never to be content quite, or quite secure, for at any moment the brute would be stirring, this hatred.
Everyone's the anti-Teddy Roosevelt. Speak loudly and carry a brittle twig.
Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.
The real joy is in discovering that the twigs and branches of my practice are all firmly rooted in a single tree, even as time goes by and I become increasingly aware of the fleetingness of all things.
For me looking, touching, material, place and form are all inseparable from the resulting work. It is difficult to say where one stops and another begins. Place is found by walking, direction determined by weather and season. I take the opportunity each day offers: if it is snowing, I work in snow, at leaf-fall it will be leaves; a blown over tree becomes a source of twigs and branches.
You know those things that you throw the twigs into and it spits them out? That's what I do. The branches are like life, and I throw them into my head and some of it comes out as humor.
As the twig is bent the tree is inclined.
Men have learned to shoot without missing their mark and I have learned to fly without perching on a twig.
As the twig is bent, so grows the tree.
I used to be so twig skinny that I couldn't eat enough, because I was just naturally skinny. Until I went to China.
Well, listen, you know, the Czech saying is, you know, when you are drowning you are grabbing even a little twig. That's what all Czechs were doing, grabbing for. . . with the hope for this little twig.
Out of the trunk, the branches grow; out of them, the twigs. So, in productive subjects, grow the chapters.
No nose hair. Ever. You'd be surprised at all the little twigs sticking out. I just can't get it. How can you see that and not just want to hack it off?
A single twig breaks, but the bundle of twigs is strong.
