Shuffle Quotes

“Walking on a path of uncertainties, Shuffling on the probabilities of uncertainties, Waging on the possibilities of uncertainties, Waiting for the occurrences of uncertainties,Solving the mysteries of wandering uncertainties,We move, lead and live.”

“Walking on a path of uncertainties, Shuffling on the probabilities of uncertainties, Waging on the possibilities of uncertainties, Waiting for the occurrences of uncertainties,Solving the mysteries of wandering uncertainties,We move, lead and live.”

“Life is a game of whist. From unseen sources The cards are shuffled and the hands are dealt. I do not like the way the cards are shuffled But yet I like the game and want to play.”

“Individuals are not stable things, they are fleeting. Chromosomes too are shuffled into oblivion, like hands of cards soon after they are dealt. But the cards themselves survive the shuffling. The cards are the genes. The genes are not destroyed by crossing-over, they merely change partners and march on. Of course they march on. That is their business. They are the replicators and we are their survival machines. When we have served our purpose we are cast aside. But genes are denizens of geological time: genes are forever.”

“I need not adapt in certain ways. I am in fact but a visitor to this world, an ephemeral gasp within its long, tired history, and, before anything else, a follower of Christ. By this alone I have the power not to shuffle away from the Faith, the power to break loose from these marching-shackles of ongoing cultural and political pretense.”

“The question is, shall it or shall it not be linear history. I've always thought a kaleidoscopic view might be an interesting heresey. Shake the tube and see what comes out. Chronology irritates me. There is no chronology inside my head. I am composed of myriad Claudias who spin and mix and part like sparks of sunlight on water. The pack of cards I carry around is forever shuffled and re-shuffled; there is no sequence, everything happens at once. The machines of the new technology, I understand, perform in much the same way: all knowledge is stored, to be summoned up at the flick of a key. They sound, in theory, more efficient. Some of my keys don't work; others demand pass-words, codes, random unlocking sequences. The collective past, curiously, provides these. It is public property, but it is also deeply private. We all look differently at it. My Victorians are not your Victorians. My seventeenth century is not yours. The voice of John Aubrey, of Darwin, of whoever you like, speaks in one tone to me, in another to you.”

“Conversationally, we were Fred and Ginger -- spin, slide, shuffle, bend.”

“Never is a man more proud than when he shuffles paper in front of an illiterate person.”

“My memories are like a shuffled deck of cards, each one coming up at random.”

“Suddenly watching her feet, so light and precise and mistress of his shuffle, I was in love again.”

“In fact, when I finally shuffle off this mortalcoil, you will have to pry a book out of my cold, dead hands.”