A Quote by Thylias Moss

Race is a layer of being, but not a culmination. — © Thylias Moss
Race is a layer of being, but not a culmination.
The writer in me can look as far as an African-American woman and stop. Often that writer looks through the African-American woman. Race is a layer of being, but not a culmination.
A revolution is not the overturning of a cart, a reshuffling in the cards of state. It is a process, a swelling, a new growth in the race. If it is real, not simply a trauma, it is another ring in the tree of history, layer upon layer of invisible tissue composing the evidence of a circle.
I experience each moment like baklava: rich in this layer, and this layer, and this layer.
I spent a lot of time trying to layer upon layer upon layer as I wrote. I think that's often the fear of a writer, that little nuances won't get picked up.
Sometimes, you know, you - drivers are worried about being misdiagnosed and maybe missing a race when they don't really have a concussion. But you can never take the risk there. It's just too dangerous to layer concussions.
Our everyday cares, making a living, the crazy rat race of life, often make us forget the value of a good deed. Thus, the goodness that exists within each and every one of us is covered with layer upon layer of indifference and unawareness. In fact, we almost have to be reminded of the fact that goodness is there inside us.
The distinguishing of the strata, or layers, in the embryonic membrane was a turning-point in the study of the history of evolution, and placed later researches in their proper light. A division of the (disc-shaped) embryo into an animal and a plastic part first takes place. In the lower part (the plastic or vegetative layer) are a serous and a vascular layer, each of peculiar organization. In the upper part also (the animal or serous germ-layer) two layers are clearly distinguishable, a flesh-layer and a skin-layer. (1828)
That family glaze of common references, jokes, events, calamities-that sense of a family being like a kitchen midden: layer upon layer of the things daily life is made of. The edifice that lovers build is by comparison delicate and one-dimensional.
A bit of theory as we settle down for lunch: the waiter's treatment of Kitty is actually a kind of sandwich, with the bottom bread being the bored and slightly effete way he normally acts with customers, the middle being the crazed and abnormal way he feels around this famous nineteen-year-old girl, and the top bread being his attempt to contain and conceal this alien middle layer with some mode of behavior that at least approximates the bottom layer of boredom and effeteness that is his norm.
I like to compare my method with that of painters centuries ago, proceeding from layer to layer.
Touring Seoul is like an onion that you keep peeling away layer after layer.
It's not as if the New Testament writers came along and said, "The culmination of Old Testament books is more books, New Testament books." In some ways they thought instead of the culmination of Old Testament books being Christ himself, the word incarnate as the opening verses of Hebrews 1 put it. In the past God spoke to the fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his son and the son is revelation.
Life is like an onion: you peel off layer after layer and then you find there is nothing in it.
For we are all bound in stories, and as the years pile up they turn to stone, layer upon layer, building our lives.
Layer by layer art strips life bare.
So, we get into the first piece. Then, layer, layer, layer, do all of this. Then we jump into the trousers. Then I'm zip-tied in to this bottom piece and glued into the feet. So you can't get out. There is a zipper...somewhere. But it'll cost you money to find out where. And to actually make it functional, it's pretty ridiculous. So, I plan ahead.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!