A Quote by Martha Graham

You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out. — © Martha Graham
You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out.
It is like having a blanket that is too small for the bed, you pull the blanket up to keep your chest warm, and your feet stick out. I cannot buy a bigger blanket because the supermarket is closed. But the blanket I have is made of cashmere. So it's good.
I say, ‘You should blanket me’ or ‘you should blanket her’, meaning like a blanket is a blessing. It’s a way of showing love and caring.
We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning.
Here was a torture that Greek inventors of the Feast and the Stone had omitted from their Hades: the Blanket of Self-Deception. A lovely warm blanket as far as it covered the soul in torment, but it never quite covered everything.
It's all about the blanket. Blanket, pillow, and red wine. You should always be asleep on a plane.
I find anger so comforting. It's like a blanket made of unresolved issues, but it's a blanket none the less.
If the greenhouse effect is a blanket in which we wrap ourselves to keep warm, nuclear winter kicks the blanket off.
The true Islam has shown me that a blanket indictment of all white people is as wrong as when whites make blanket indictments against blacks.
I'm more comfortable weaving Indian flavors into American classics.
Heroin spread that soft blanket over everything. But once the blanket was ripped off, it took a layer of skin with it, leaving nothing but nerve ends screaming in the breeze.
This is another world to the ones most Australians know. It was explained by my father once that it's like a blanket on the ground. We, the uninitiated, only see the blanket. Lift it up and that's what our elders... see - the real thing - a world most of us will never know or understand. Through their paintings, artists... offer us a glimpse of the world of dreams where the past, present and the future link.
When I was little, I used to think that the sky at night was a big, black blanket that separated heaven from earth, and the stars were a whole bunch of little pin holes that the angels poked in the blanket so they could look down on us.
My first memory of loving music happened so early. We would always go to the beach in the summer and I would run from blanket to blanket, from family to family and just sing Lion King songs acapella.
Hamish smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Sure we can. What do you say? Pigs in a Blanket?" He leaned over the cool counter and raised his eyebrows at Gabrielle. "The only way I'll get under a blanket with you is if both of us are on fire," she told him.
There's a one in six billion chance you'll find your soul mate. And that's if they're not dead. At best they're probably living in some Siberian ice cave eating bugs and weaving beads into their back hair. But they're out there. My dad believed that to find your perfect soul mate, first, you had to look through a bunch of other guys' soul mates.
When I was young I had a security blanket and a pet dog. The dog got sick and died and the blanket had to be burned, so I guess I was trying to recreate the image of security in the bunny. It was a Citizen Kane/Rosebud thing.
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