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Fragments Quotes

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Fragments Quotes

“A piece of art comes to life, when we can feel, it is breathing, when it talks to us and starts raising questions. It may dispel biased perceptions; make us recognize ignored fragments and remember forsaken episodes of our life story. Art may sometimes even be nasty and disturbing, if we don’t want to consent to its philosophy or concept, but it might, in the end, perhaps reconcile us with ourselves. ("When is Art?")”

“The young Prince arrived in this world, lost and very frightened. The thread he had followed was broken, and he had no means of spinning another. His friend, the Spider Mage, was too far away to hear his cries, and this world of cruelty and noise was too much for him. Even the air was unbreathable. And so he crept into World Below, and wept to himself in the darkness. As he wept, his grief was so great that he broke into a cloud of butterflies and moths, each one a fragment of himself, that scattered into the darkness of the tunnels beneath the city. Some of them found their way to the light. Others stayed in the darkness. Some slept. And they became two separate groups-- one living underground, one in the light, both yearning for the world they had left, and for the chance to be whole again.”

“The Mage's powers were almost gone, and his web, which had once spanned the worlds, had shrunk to little more than rags. And yet he clung to the hope that somehow the lost Prince could be found; his Aspect made whole, his inheritance restored. Using his web of dreams, he found fragments of the Prince that had been forgotten and overlooked, cocooned in the darkness of London Beyond. And he placed each one of these cocoons with a human family, good folk oblivious to their origin, unmindful of their destiny. Thus were these royal hatchlings kept far away from the two warring tribes until it was time for their coming of age, and for the plan that the Spider Mage had formed to be put into action.”

“Some alters are what Dr Ross describes in Multiple Personality Disorder as 'fragments', which are 'relatively limited psychic states that express only one feeling, hold one memory or carry out a limited task in the person's life. A fragment might be a frightened child who holds the memory of one particular abuse incident.' In complex multiples, Dr Ross continues, the `personalities are relatively full-bodied, complete states capable of a rang of emotions and behaviours.' The alters will have `executive control some substantial amount of time over the person life'. He stresses, and I repeat his emphasis, 'Complex MPD with over 15 alter personalities and complicated amnesic barriers are associated with 100 percent frequency of childhood physical, sexual and emotional abuse.”

“Did I imagine the castle, the dungeon, the ritual orgies and violations? Did Lucy, Billy, Samuel, Eliza, Shirley and Kato make it all up? I went back to the industrial estate and found the castle. It was an old factory that had burned to the ground, but the charred ruins of the basement remained. I closed my eyes and could see the black candles, the dancing shadows, the inverted pentagram, the people chanting through hooded robes. I could see myself among other children being abused in ways that defy imagination. I have no doubt now that the cult of devil worshippers was nothing more than a ring of paedophiles, the satanic paraphernalia a cover for their true lusts: the innocent bodies of young children.”

“Some alters are what Dr Ross describes in Multiple Personality Disorder as 'fragments'. which are 'relatively limited psychic states that express only one feeling, hold one memory, or carry out a limited task in the person's life. A fragment might be a frightened child who holds the memory of one particular abuse incident.' In complex multiples, Dr Ross continues, the 'personalities are relatively full-bodied, complete states capable of a range of emotions and behaviours.' The alters will have 'executive control some substantial amount of time over the person's life'. He stresses, and I repeat his emphasis, 'Complex MPD with over 15 alter personalities and complicated amnesia barriers are associated with 100 percent frequency of childhood physical, sexual and emotional abuse.' Did I imagine the castle, the dungeon, the ritual orgies and violations? Did Lucy, Billy, Samuel, Eliza, Shirley and Kato make it all up? I went back to the industrial estate and found the castle. It was an old factory that had burned to the ground, but the charred ruins of the basement remained. I closed my eyes and could see the black candles, the dancing shadows, the inverted pentagram, the people chanting through hooded robes. I could see myself among other children being abused in ways that defy imagination. I have no doubt now that the cult of devil worshippers was nothing more than a ring of paedophiles, the satanic paraphernalia a cover for their true lusts: the innocent bodies of young children.”

“She holds the fabric, threads running through her fingers, a quiet rhythm of time. Each patch, a piece of her, becomes moments sewn into the seams, stories stitched into the space between. The jacket grows beneath her hands, a map of warmth and strength, woven by the quiet care of a woman who knows how to make something whole from fragments.”

“This gesture is one of the motifs of modernity's turn against the principle of imitating nature, that is to say, imitating predefined morphological expectations. It is still capable of perceiving message-totalities and autonomous thing-signals when no morphologically intact figures are left - indeed, precisely then. The sense for perfection withdraws from the forms of nature - probably because nature itself is in the process of losing its ontological authority. The popularization of photography also increasingly devalues the standard views of things. As the first edition of the visible, nature comes into discredit. It can no longer assert its authority as the sender of binding messages - for reasons that ultimately come from its disenchantment through being scientifically explored and technically outdone. After this shift, 'being perfect' takes on an altered meaning: it means having something to say that is more meaningful than the chatter of conventional totalities. Now the torsos and their ilk have their turn: the hour of those forms that do not remind us of anything has come. Fragments, cripples and hybrids formulate something that cannot be conveyed by the common whole forms and happy integrities; intensity beats standard perfection.”

“Hur många fragment av onödiga kunskaper finns det egentligen i en människa som har nått femtionio år? Och kanske är de inte alldeles onödiga? Kanske är det av fragmenten som man i grund och botten består? Passioner, känslor, längtan, ja till och med hat kommer och går. Det är fragmenten som blir kvar och som lever sitt myllrande liv, ungefär som myrorna i myrstacken. Valmiki, den store hinduiske asketen och mystikern, satt stilla så länge att myrorna byggde en stack kring honom. "Valmiki" betyder, som alla förstår, "myrstack" på sanskrit.”

“Att språngvis och på ett fullständigt oförutsägbart sätt kasta sig från den ena meningslösa kunskapen till den andra. Ur tanke i tanke. Det var av sådana mängder av näst intill oanvändbara tankar, av ett sammelsurium av fullständigt meningslösa kunskaper som en människa bestod. Kanske var det av sådana fragment som verkligheten bestod? I politiska kampanjer i televisionen brukade man kalla det för sound bites. De korta effektiva raderna som lyste till, som för ett ögonblick fångade det sällsyntaste och värdefullaste som fanns: de andra människornas fulla uppmärksamhet. Det mänskliga medvetandet var i själva verket inte alls så olikt televisionen. Hade det inte, precis som televisionen, en massa kanaler som man hela tiden hoppade mellan? Och bestod det inte av en ständig, aldrig riktigt vilande ström av fragment, ibland som de där meningslösa kunskaperna, ibland som ett plötsligt smärtsamt barndomsminne, ibland bara en smygande ängslan. Och på ett och annat ställe i denna ström kunde det blänka till. En snabb liten fisk. En sound bite.”

“We are now facing a difficult situation in Peru, where there are attempts to cut back the territorial rights of the indigenous peoples, including moves to divide, fragment and privatise our communal organisations. Now more than ever, it is a matter of urgency for us to consolidate our own indigenous alternatives for development.”

“But this is what I know about people getting ready to walk of the edge of their own lives: they want someone to know how they got there. Maybe they want to know that when they dissolve into earth and water, that last fragment will be saved, held in some corner of someone's mind; or maybe all they want is a chance to dump it pulsing and bloody into someone else's hands, so it won't weigh them down on the journey. They want to leave their stories behind. No one in all the world knows that better than I do.”

“You are literally filled with the fruit of your own devices, with rats and mice and such small deer, paramecia, and entomostraceæ, and kicking things with horrid names, which you see in microscopes at the Polytechnic, and rush home and call for brandy-without the water-stone, and gravel, and dyspepsia, and fragments of your own muscular tissue tinged with your own bile.”

“I mean time management is a big factor in my life. I'm a very organized person. You can only do one thing at a time, so that's the main way I do everything. When I'm with my kids, I'm with my kids. When I'm directing a movie, I'm directing a movie. When I'm making Magic Mike, I'm making Magic Mike. So you just really have to fragment and focus.”

“No great, inspiring culture of the future can be built upon the moral principle of relativism. For at its bottom such a culture holds that nothing is better than anything else, and that all things are in themselves equally meaningless. Except for the fragments of faith (in progress, in compassion, in conscience, in hope) to which it still clings, illegitimately, such a culture teaches every one of its children that life is a tale told by an idiot, signifying nothing.”

“I walked slowly out on the beach. A few yards below high-water mark I stopped and read the words again: WRITE YOUR WORRIES ON THE SAND. I let the paper blow away, reached down and picked up a fragment of shell. Kneeling there under the vault of the sky, I wrote several words, one above the other. Then I walked away, and I did not look back. I had written my troubles on the sand. The tide was coming in.”