A Quote by Leslie T. Chang

Just because a person spends her time making a piece of something does not mean that she becomes that - a piece of something. — © Leslie T. Chang
Just because a person spends her time making a piece of something does not mean that she becomes that - a piece of something.
I have friends who have children, and they have told me how remarkable it is to have a new life that is a piece of your own flesh anf blood. But I --" "I realized that I didn't love her because she was a piece of me, I loved her because she was a piece of you.
Creating a piece of software is always complicated because you're doing something new. If you just wanted something that had been done before you'd just use that old piece of software. So there are no repetitive tasks.
There was something striking about her posture; something about the tilt to her head. She was like a beautiful and lonely piece of art, lovely but unreachable.
Is an 'idea' an advance visualization of a piece? Part of a piece? If anything - if it hasn't already evaporated - it's one of the very first things sacrificed during the actual process of making something.
Have you ever had a moment where you finish a piece, and then all of a sudden the piece sort of takes on it's own life beyond you? It doesn't happen every time, but there are some pieces where that happens, and I love that. I feel like that's what I'm seeking nowadays, that moment of transcendence with a piece. Where this thing becomes larger than me as a person. It becomes otherworldly, and then I get separated as maker from it, and then it has it's own life. I love that.
Once upon a time there was a girl who wanted to put her fist through a mirror. She would tell everyone it was so that she could see what was on the other side, but really, it was so that she wouldn't have to look at herself. That, and because she thought she might be able to steal a piece of glass when no one was looking, and use it to carve her heart out of her chest.
The message of music was also the first thing what I learned from my first teacher. She was an organist too and she was very devoted to what she played, so she had a respect for every piece and she felt that she is not allowed to add something of her own.
As you work on something, whether it's a painting or a piece of music, it's going to evolve. A relationship is like that too. I don't have to think, What can I do to spice up my marriage? Because as time goes on, she changes, I change. I'm not married to the same girl I met by the pool. I love this woman more than I loved the person I married, but just in a different way.
His words were still clear in her mind from that first meeting. "Whoever eats this will love you." She looked into the mirror, at her birthmark, bright as blood, at her kiss-stung lips, at the absurd smile stretching across her face. Carefully separating out the crushed pieces of shell, she pulled the dried pulp free from its cage of veins. Piece by piece, she put the sweet brown fruit in her own mouth and swallowed it down.
I think it's okay that there's digital music out there, because that does mean more people have access. I mean, you're a student, and you're studying music, and you want to find a CD of a whole work, but there's one piece that intrigues you. It's easy to get that piece for a dollar for the most part. And it's so easy for people to carry around music digitally.
Making a movie is like chipping away at a stone. You take a piece off here, you take a piece off there and when you're finished, you have a sculpture. You know that there's something in there, but you're not sure exactly what it is until you find it.
Once, an unkempt, elderly woman came into the pawn shop. She appeared homeless, and she insisted on seeing every piece of expensive jewelry in the store. Just when I was feeling impatient, the woman pointed at the most expensive piece of jewelry and said, 'I'll take that one.' Then she proceeded to pull $4,000 out of her sock to pay for it.
Was there another life she was meant to be living? At times she felt a keen certainty that there was ? a phantom life, taunting her from just out of reach. A sense would come over her while she was drawing or walking, and once while she was dancing slow and close with Kaz, that she was supposed to be doing something else with her hands, with her legs, with her body. Something else. Something else. Something else.
I had one young man tell me he wished I was his mom. Another young woman told me that every time she watched 'The Office,' I reminded her of her mother, who had just passed away a year ago, and that every time she saw me she felt as if she had a piece of her mom still with her.
When her hands reached out and poured the tea, it was as if she also poured something into me while I sat there sweating in my cab. It was like she held a string and pulled on it just slightly to open me up. She got in, put a piece of herself inside me, and left again.
Anytime someone basically commissions a piece, I write a song based on something personal to them. I go online and I do research on that person - Wikipedia, YouTube interviews, anywhere I can find a piece of information that kind of tugs at your heart a little bit.
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