No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist / Wolf 's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine.
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The history of persecution is a history of endeavors to cheat nature, to make water run up hill, to twist a rope of sand.
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So if I asked you about art you could give me the skinny on every art book ever written...Michelangelo? You know a lot about him I bet. Life's work, criticisms, political aspirations. But you couldn't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. And if I asked you about women I'm sure you could give me a syllabus of your personal favorites, and maybe you've been laid a few times too. But you couldn't tell me how it feels to wake up next to a woman and be truly happy. If I asked you about war you could refer me to a bevy of fictional and non-fictional material, but you've never been in one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap and watched him draw his last breath, looking to you for help. And if I asked you about love I'd get a sonnet, but you've never looked at a woman and been truly vulnerable. Known that someone could kill you with a look. That someone could rescue you from grief. That God had put an angel on Earth just for you. And you wouldn't know how it felt to be her angel. To have the love be there for her forever. Through anything, through cancer. You wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in a hospital room for two months holding her hand and not leaving because the doctors could see in your eyes that the term 'visiting hours' didn't apply to you. And you wouldn't know about real loss, because that only occurs when you lose something you love more than yourself, and you've never dared to love anything that much. I look at you and I don't see an intelligent confident man, I don't see a peer, and I don't see my equal. I see a boy. Nobody could possibly understand you, right Will? Yet you presume to know so much about me because of a painting you saw. You must know everything about me. You're an orphan, right? Do you think I would presume to know the first thing about who you are because I read 'Oliver Twist?' And I don't buy the argument that you don't want to be here, because I think you like all the attention you're getting. Personally, I don't care. There's nothing you can tell me that I can't read somewhere else. Unless we talk about your life. But you won't do that. Maybe you're afraid of what you might say.
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When we were at school we were taught to sing the songs of the Europeans. How many of us were taught the songs of the Wanyamwezi or of the Wahehe? Many of us have learnt to dance the rumba, or the cha cha, to rock and roll and to twist and even to dance the waltz and foxtrot. But how many of us can dance, or have even heard of the gombe sugu, the mangala, nyang umumi, kiduo, or lele mama?
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'I am the bubble gum that sticks in your hair!' 'I am the ingrown toenail on the foot of crime!' 'I am the itch you cannot reach!' 'I am the paper cut that ruins your day!' 'I am the parking meter that expires while you shop!' 'I am the plot-twist in the 2nd reel!' 'I am the terror that flaps in the night!' 'I am the weirdo who sits next to you on the bus!' 'I am the winged scourge that pecks at your nightmares!' 'I am the wrong number that wakes you at 3 am!'
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So you wish to conquer in the Olympics, my friend? And I too, by the Gods, and fine thing it would be! But first mark the conditions and the consequences, and then set to work. You will have to put yourself under discipline, to eat by rule, to aviod cakes and sweatmeats, to take exercise at the appointed hour whether you like it or no, in cold or heat; to abstain from cold drinks and from wine at your will; in a word, to give yourself over to the trainer as to a physician. Then in the conflict itself you are most likely enough to dislocate your wrist or twist your ankle, to swallow a great deall of dust, or to be severely thrashed, and, after all these things, to be defeated.
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It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.
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A joke is not a thing but a process, a trick you play on the listener's mind. You start him off toward a plausible goal, and then by a sudden twist you land him nowhere at all or just where he didn't expect to go.
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And finally I twist my heart round again, so that the bad is on the outside and the good is on the inside, and keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so like to be, and could be, if there weren't any other people living in the world.
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Debugging tips from the Master, Sherlock Holmes:
'It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories instead of theories to suit facts.'
'As a rule, the more bizarre a thing is, the less mysterious it proves to be.'
'Perhaps I have trained myself to see what others overlook.'
'There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.'
'Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward.'
'I am glad of all details, whether they seem to you to be relevant or not.'
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The Twist was a guided missile, launched from the ghetto into the very heart of suburbia. The Twist succeeded, as politics, religion, and law could never do, in writing in the heart and soul what the Supreme Court could only write on the books.
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'You, madam, are the eternal humorist, The eternal enemy of the absolute, Giving our vagrant moods the slightest twist!...'
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I believe in the total depravity of inanimate things... the elusiveness of soap, the knottiness of strings, the transitory nature of buttons, the inclination of suspenders to twist and of hooks to forsake their lawful eyes, and cleave only unto the hairs of their hapless owner's head.
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An attempt at visualizing the Fourth Dimension: Take a point, stretch it into a line, curl it into a circle, twist it into a sphere, and punch through the sphere.
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Roll, roll, roll your joint. Twist it in the end, Light it up and take a puff Then pass it to a friend!
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This spirited new musical is American history...but with a 'Forrest Gump'-type twist, as Liberty Smith, an everyman hero and the 'forgotten' founding father, crosses paths with historical giants and influences great events in funny and unexpected ways.
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I am sleepy, and the oozy weeds about me twist.
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Talk to them about things they don't know. Try to give them an inferiority complex. If the actress is beautiful, screw her. If she isn't, present her with a valuable painting she will not understand. If they insist on being boring, kick their asses or twist their noses. And that's about all there is to it.
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A little twist to the usual, Everything comes to he who waits. Everythingcomes to him who hustles while he waits.
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You cannot hope to bribe or twist (thank God!) the British journalist. But, seeing what the man will do unbribed, there's no occasion to.
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Their laughter dies out all over the world. They know. They laugh at the law. The rich ones who buy it and twist it to their whims. The other ones, who have nothing to lose, who don't care about themselves, or other people. All those who think they're above the law, or outside it, or beyond it. They know all the law is good for is to keep good people in line. And they all laugh. They laugh at the law. But they don't laugh at me.
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Christ it's nothing personal You've got to see They twist and turn your words For their own needs They're brainwashed puppets The almighty crutch Cowards of reality And their dying love
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The difference between a helping hand and an outstretched palm is a twist of the wrist.
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2 Peter 3:16:
He writes the same way in all his letters, speaking in them of these matters. His letters contain some things that are hard to understand, which ignorant and unstable people distort, as they do the other Scriptures, to their own destruction.
(NIV)
Speaking of this as he does in all of his letters. There are some things in those [epistles of Paul] that are difficult to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist and misconstrue to their own utter destruction, just as [they distort and misinterpret] the rest of the Scriptures.
(AMP)
As also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things; in which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, unto their own destruction.
(KJV)
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Well, I think we ought to let him hang there. Let him twist slowly, slowly in the wind.
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We twist and turn where angels burn Like fallen soldiers, we will learn, that once forgotten, twice removed, love will be the death of you
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The duce of any other rule have I to govern myself by in this affair—and if I had one ... I would twist it and tear it to pieces, and throw ...
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