#Skeletons
Quotes about skeletons
Skeletons, often shrouded in mystery and intrigue, represent the fundamental framework of life. They are the silent architects of our bodies, providing structure and support, yet they remain hidden beneath the surface, much like the deeper truths and emotions we carry within us. This duality makes skeletons a powerful symbol in literature and art, embodying themes of mortality, resilience, and the unseen forces that shape our existence. People are drawn to quotes about skeletons because they resonate with the universal human experience of confronting what lies beneath the surface—both literally and metaphorically. These quotes often explore the delicate balance between life and death, strength and vulnerability, and the beauty found in the bare essentials of our being. By reflecting on skeletons, we are reminded of our own inner fortitude and the intricate, often unseen, connections that hold us together. Whether contemplating the fragility of life or the enduring strength of the human spirit, quotes about skeletons invite us to delve deeper into the essence of who we are and what we leave behind.
Doctrine is the frame-work of life; it is the skeleton of truth, to be clothed and rounded out by the living graces of a holy life. It is only the lean creature whose bones become offensive.
Effort ceases. Time flaps on the mast. There we stop; there we stand. Rigid, the skeleton of habit alone upholds the human frame
Every writer is necessarily a critic - that is, each sentence is a skeleton accompanied by enormous activity of rejection; and each selection is governed by general principles concerning truth, force, beauty, and so on. The critic that is in every fabulist is like the iceberg - nine-tenths of him is under water.
Sleep is cousin-german unto death: Sleep and death differ, no more, than a carcass And a skeleton.
Staring at her face, she began to fancy her outer layer had begun to melt away while she wasn't paying attention, and something -- some new skeleton -- was emerging from beneath the softness of her accustomed self. With a deep, visceral ache, she wished her true form might prove to be a sleek and shining one, like a stiletto blade slicing free of an ungainly sheath. Like a bird of prey losing its hatchling fluff to hunt in cold, magnificent skies. That she might become something glittering, something startling, something dangerous.
I said: "A tiger does not proclaim his tigritude, he pounces". In other words: a tiger does not stand in the forest and say: "I am a tiger". When you pass where the tiger has walked before, you see the skeleton of the duiker, you know that some tigritude has been emanated there.