
“We'll spin them out like a bobbin thread.”
To Ralph Parker, about the Nazis. Quoted in "Timoshenko: Marshal of the Red Army" - Page 91 - by Walter Mehring - 1942
Letter 56 to Lady Kenmure
Letters of Samuel Rutherford (Andrew Bonar)
“We'll spin them out like a bobbin thread.”
To Ralph Parker, about the Nazis. Quoted in "Timoshenko: Marshal of the Red Army" - Page 91 - by Walter Mehring - 1942
Nobel Banquet Speech (10 December 1929) http://nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1929/mann-speech.html
Source: "The House of Mirth" http://books.google.com/books?id=plFdLlYHwZ8C&pg=PA69&lpg=PA69&dq=No+insect+hangs+its+nest+on+threads+as+frail+as+those+which+will+sustain+the+weight+of+human+vanity.&source=bl&ots=j0EPPhjIZW&sig=MQMjyNy5yKK97Ok4bGqRWfC3obE&hl=en&ei=T5F0TMqyMIuisAOczpyMBg&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=4&ved=0CCEQ6AEwAw#v=onepage&q=No%20insect%20hangs%20its%20nest%20on%20threads%20as%20frail%20as%20those%20which%20will%20sustain%20the%20weight%20of%20human%20vanity.&f=false (1905), ch. X, pg. 69
“Let us keep to Christ, and cling to Him, and hang on Him, so that no power can remove us.”
Source: Dictionary of Burning Words of Brilliant Writers (1895), p. 433
The Way of the Wyrd : Tales of an Anglo-Saxon Sorcerer (1983)
Context: The threads of wyrd are a dimension of ourselves that we cannot grasp with words. We spin webs of words, yet wyrd slips through like the wind. The secrets of wyrd do not lie in our word-hoards, but are locked in the soul. We can only discern the shadows of reality with our words, whereas our souls are capable of encountering the realities of wyrd directly. This is why wyrd is accessible to the sorcerer: the sorcerer sees with his soul, not with eyes blinkered by the shape of words.
Do not live your life searching around for answers in your word-hoard. You will find only words to rationalize your experience. Allow yourself to open to wyrd and it will cleanse, renew, change, and develop your casket of reason. Your word-hoard should serve your experience, not the reverse.
“I may not speak till Eros' torch is dim,
The god is bitter and will have it so.”
"Roundel"
Helen of Troy and Other Poems (1911)