A Quote by Chogyam Trungpa

Sanity lies somewhere between the inhibitions of conventional morality and the looseness of extreme impulse, but the area in-between is very fuzzy. — © Chogyam Trungpa
Sanity lies somewhere between the inhibitions of conventional morality and the looseness of extreme impulse, but the area in-between is very fuzzy.
Somewhere between psychotic and iconic/ Somewhere between I want it and I got it/ Somewhere between I’m sober and I’m lifted/ Somewhere between a mistress and commitment
I am a trembling mess from hip to knee. There is a terrible heat, a looseness in my innards that makes me want to dig my fists between my thighs. It is a confusing feeling - somewhere between diarrhoea and sex - this grief that is almost genital.
Somewhere in between all the mind games, lies and seduction...I fell for you. Somewhere in between all the broken promises, manipulation and heartaches...I got over you. But, I guess I fibbed a few times too. Remember all those times I swore I needed you? Well consider them lies because baby, here I am without you, and I survived.
It's only fashion that has said the pendulum has swung from extreme skepticism about extraterrestrial life to extreme credulity. The truth is somewhere in between.
Somewhere between obsession and compulsion is impulse.
I strongly reject any conceptual scheme that places our options on a line, and holds that the only alternative to a pair of extreme positions lies somewhere between them. More fruitful perspectives often require that we step off the line to a site outside the dichotomy.
I have always felt that a lot of the most interesting work, not just mine but other people's, falls into [the] nether area, somewhere between the worlds of documentary and photojournalism (two very vague words) and the world of art. I think a lot of street photography falls into this nether area.
The only morality I'm interested in is the morality between your ears, between each player's ears, because that's the interesting thing to me.
Magic lies in between things, between the day and the night, between yellow and blue, between any two things.
It's either good, bad or somewhere in between. It's either ying, yang or it's a combination. You're either male, female or somewhere in between. You've got to be somewhere on the map.
Somewhere between the Angels and the French lies the rest of humanity.
Part of the mystique of blogs is their protean quality: They work both sides of the divide between politics and media, further blurring the already fuzzy distinctions between reporter, pundit, political operative, activist, and citizen.
In the space between yes and no, there's a lifetime. It's the difference between the path you walk and the one you leave behind; it's the gap between who you thought you could be and who you really are; its the legroom for the lies you'll tell yourself in the future.
People have different impressions of themselves, and where reality lies is somewhere in between.
Somewhere between apathy and anarchy lies the thinking human being.
In this world we must either institute conventional forms of expression or else pretend that we have nothing to express; the choice lies between a mask and a figleaf.
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