Yes, my scars shape meToday, I have learnt to coverit with fabric made of hope, faith, perseverance, and determination. For this, I am grateful to life

A colorful body with fabrics, tattoos and jewelry is attractive, but a colorful heart with love, truth and faith is beautiful.

I guess she was a life line Sewing our family fabric togetherFrom me to dad to herGave me a sense of continuity Especially when my daughter was bornAs she was slipping away

Time is an encoded pattern of fabric woven with information & energy.

Maybe I need to immerse the fabric of my soul in torrential nature of Christmas, and in doing so to finally understand that it is the very thing that can make the world what I so wish it were.

That felt strange. How sharp a rent a handful of moments made in the fabric of a life.

God finds a way to weave even your mistakes into the fabric of a brighter future if you let Him.

If we rub a fabric too often, it will quickly grow threadbare; and Nobu’s words had rasped against me so much, I could no longer maintain that finely lacquered surface Mameha had always counseled me to hide behind.

I cannot hope to make you understand how the world is truly made,' he told her. 'Metaphor, then: the world is a weave, like threads woven into cloth.' His hand came out of his sleeve with a strip of his red ribbon.'If you sa

Material wealth don’t just come and go, they come to stay as long as the virtues remain in the fabric of a nation

For the others, it was still just a tale, like all the tales we told, night by night, tales comical and strange, tales heroic and awe-inspiring, the tales that formed the fabric of our spirits.

This winter, there will be no voices, no glimpses, no arms.only the fabric of poetry, to keep me warm.

Shirts and jeans litter the asphalt, the empty fabric limbs askew as if they're attempting to escape. Blood smears Sarah's lips as she struggles against the chest of a dirty looking man with a beard. Terror. Terror is the only word my mind can seize on and it forgets what it means. I forget how to think - to move.

I was thinking how complicated life is and how there are no simple roads or paths. We are a fabric of mistakes and hurts; a family tree of fumbled attempts, successes and failures.

The only thing that had saved her then was knitting. In prison she had become a compulsive knitter. Knitting allowed her to unite, to connect, to integrate. With every stitch she held on to dear life. Threads hold us together.