A Quote by Charles Jencks

Pick up a sunflower and count the florets running into its centre, or count the spiral scales of a pine cone or a pineapple, running from its bottom up its sides to the top, and you will find an extraordinary truth: recurring numbers, ratios and proportions.
Pick up a pinecone and count the spiral rows of scales. You may find eight spirals winding up to the left and 13 spirals winding up to the right, or 13 left and 21 right spirals, or other pairs of numbers. The striking fact is that these pairs of numbers are adjacent numbers in the famous Fibonacci series
Not everything that counts can be counted. You can count sales. You can count fans and followers. You can count pins and tweets. But you can't count passion. You can't count commitment. You can't count engagement. You can't count relationships.
Running is a very natural activity. If you get too caught up, you find yourself constantly seeking to make running something that it isn't. You should let it be what it is - a very simple activity. Running has become too complicated for many people and they wind up turning sour on the sport, or losing the focus of their direction.
If, my dear, you seek to slumber; Count of stars an endless number; If you will continue wakeful; Count the drops that make a lakeful; Then if vigilance yet above you Hover, Count the times I love you; And if slumber sill repel you Count the times I do not tell you.
I'm not running from the left; I'm running from the bottom. I'm running in fierce advocacy for working-class New Yorkers.
The left patronizes minorities, pretends they don't know how to vote correctly, pretends they don't have IDs, when in fact they want their votes to count, and participate in greater numbers when you assure them their votes will count.
If you are happy in a dream, Ammu, does that count? Estha asked. "Does what count?" "The happiness does it count?". She knew exactly what he meant, her son with his spoiled puff. Because the truth is, that only what counts, counts....."If you eat fish in a dream, does it count?" Does it mean you've eaten fish?
Sometimes you stumble when you push yourself harder and you're trying to run faster or whatever. We forgive ourselves, pick ourselves up, and keep running. We don't cry and stop running because we skinned our knee.
In trying to count our many blessings the difficulty is not to find things to count, but to find time to enumerate them all.
A reporter asked recently, 'What keeps you up at night?' I replied that I generally sleep well, but if I ever do have trouble, I don't have to count sheep. I count all the states I'm glad I'm not the governor of.
I decided that I would be one of the biggest new names; and I actually had some little fancy business cards printed up to announce it, 'Count Basie. Beware, the Count is Here.'
I'm not sure what we're running from. Nobody. Or the future. Fate. Growing up. Getting old. Picking up the pieces. As if running we won't have to get on with our lives.
I've never owned an actual trail-running shoe myself, but maybe I should. My favorite paths are fraught with peril, much of it skulking at shoelace level. A rock, a root, an errant pine cone. Wham, and you're down, choking in dust and picking pebbles from wounds in your forearms and knees.
Do not count the days, do not count the miles. Count only the Germans you have killed. Kill the German - this is your old mother's prayer. Kill the German - this is what your children beseech you to do. Kill the German - this is the cry of your Russian earth. Do not waver. Do not let up. Kill.
Without faith we count down the days to death, with it we count up the days till happiness
Pick up any newspaper in the morning. Count the words in the lead sentences. There will be at least 25 in all of them: Guaranteed. The writers just want to tell you how many degrees they have from this college or that university.
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