A Quote by Robert Pinsky

Even in the scorched and frozen world of the dead after the
holocaust
The wheel as it turns goes on accreting ornaments. — © Robert Pinsky
Even in the scorched and frozen world of the dead after the holocaust The wheel as it turns goes on accreting ornaments.
The wheel turns and turns and turns: it never stops and stands still.
In whatever system where the weight attached to the wheel should be the cause of motion of the wheel, without any doubt the center of the gravity of the weight will stop beneath the center of its axle. No instrument devised by human ingenuity, which turns with its wheel, can remedy this effect. Oh, speculators about perpetual motion, how many vain chimeras have you created in the like quest. Go and take you place with the seekers after gold.
I dreamed night after night that everyone in the world was dead excepting myself, and that upon me rested the responsibility of making a wagon wheel.
Let's say someone has experienced a violent trauma or betrayal: a child has been raped by a parent or has witnessed the destruction of someone he loves or has been so traumatized by the possibility of beatings and punishments that he's afraid to act. If the trauma is great enough, that person's life may become frozen, emotionally frozen even though he still gets up in the morning, is busy all day, and goes to bed at night. But there's this empty space that begins to fill with rage, rage toward everyone - the perpetrator, the people in the world who haven't suffered, even toward himself. (174)
There is a misconception in our society that only women have to follow the norms of wearing a mangalsutra after marriage. Actually there are a few ornaments which even men are expected to wear after marriage.
If you eat dead, toasted, fried or frozen food, you will feel dead, toasted, fried and frozen.
The mill wheel turns, it turns forever, though what is uppermost remains not so.
Because we spent so much time in the writer's room, not even talking about where it goes, but just who the people are in our world, we could find all those unexpected moments and twists and turns that we didn't even see ourselves.
It turns out that there is nothing so 'ex' as an ex-politician, especially a defeated one. Your phone goes dead.
It's like the Tibetan Wheel of the Passions. As the wheel turns, the values and feelings on the outer rim rise and fall, shining or sinking into darkness. But true love stays fastened to the axle and doesn't move.
Flea-Market vendors are frozen mid-haggle. Middle-aged women are frozen in the middle of their lives. The gavels of frozen judges are frozen between guilt and innocence. On the ground are the crystals of the frozen first breaths of babies, and those of the last gasps of the dying.
Don't lose yourself to anger. It's gasoline. You can burn it as fuel, or you can use it to torch everything you care about and end up standing on a scorched battlefield, with everybody dead, even you-only your body doesn't have the good grace to quit breathing
Sometimes the wheel turns slowly, but it turns.
As the Wheel of Time turns, places wear many names. Men wear many names, many faces. Different faces, but always the same man. Yet no one knows the Great Pattern the Wheel weaves, or even the Pattern of an Age. We can only watch, and study, and hope.
Even when all the worlds have frozen or exploded, and all the suns gone dead and cold, there'll still be time. Oh, God, what for?
The word sacred comes from sacrifice, to cut up. That means that in order to have a sacred journey, you have to give up something, sacrifice; but few people today in the West want to hear about that. Americans want the boon without the labyrinth.Pilgrimage starts the wheel, it turns the wheel of samsara, the wheel of life, and we have to live with the consequences.
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