Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.
We should be sensitive to the thread of silence from which the tissue of speech is woven.
Words form the thread on which we string our experiences.
Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads.
All things are bound together. All things connect.
May a thread of comfort be woven through your difficult days.
Invisible threads are the strongest ties.
A gentle heart is tied with an easy thread.
Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so that each small piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry.
Every bird which flies has the thread of the infinite in its claw.
Purpose is the thread that connects the dots to everything you do that leads you to an extraordinary life.
The future is a hundred thousand threads, but the past is a fabric that can never be rewoven.
The tapestry of history is woven of many threads.
We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.
We make our way through Everything like thread passing through fabric, giving shape to images that we ourselves do not know.
Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides.
Destiny itself is like a wonderful wide tapestry in which every thread is guided by an unspeakable tender hand, placed beside another thread and held and carried by a hundred others.
Pull a thread in my story and feel the tremor half a world and two millenia away.
It will be very interesting one day to follow the pattern of our life as it is spread out like a beautiful tapestry. As long as we live here we see only the reverse side of the weaving, and very often the pattern, with its threads running wildly, doesn't seem to make sense. Some day, however, we shall understand. In looking back over the years we can discover how a red thread goes through the pattern of our life: the Will of God.
Life is a great tapestry. The individual is only an insignificant thread in an immense and miraculous pattern.
The universe is bound by unseen threads. We have only to untangle them a little to see a pattern unfold.
Destiny is thrifty. To weave her tapestry, she uses even the tiniest snips of thread.
If we accept that we are all cut from the same genetic cloth, all cultures share the same genius. And whether that genius is placed into technological wizardry which has been our great achievement, or, by contrast, placed into the unraveling of complex threads of memory inherent in a myth is simply a matter of choice.
No cord or cable can draw so forcibly, or bind so fast, as love can do with a single thread.
The thread breakes, where it is weakest.
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