Beads Bracelet Quotes

Up at Meru I saw a young Native girl with a bracelet on, a leather strap two inches wide, and embroidered all over with very small turquoise-coloured beads which varied a little in colour and played in green, light blue, and ultramarine. It was an extraordinarily live thing; it seemed to draw breath on her arm, so that I wanted it for myself, and made Farah buy it from her. No sooner had it come upon my own arm than it gave up the ghost. It was nothing now, a small, cheap, purchased article of finery. It had been the play of colours, the duet between the turquoise and the 'nègre' - that quick, sweet, brownish black, like peat and black pottery, of the Native's skin - that had created the life of the bracelet.

As for the bracelet Mom wore to the funeral, what I did was I converted Dad’s last voice message into Morse code, and I used sky-blue beads for silence, maroon beads for breaks between letters, violet beads for breaks between words, and long and short pieces of string between the beads for long and short beeps, which are actually called blips, I think, or something. Dad would have known.

It was a familiar sneer: the exact one that filled my own heart every time someone tried to tell me earnestly about how I would really clear my chakras if only I would wear this set of beads or that magnetic copper bracelet. They’d always get wound up when I told them that putting on a thing churned out of a machine from ore that had been strip-mined by underpaid laborers wasn’t likely to improve my mana balance any.

The bracelet was made up of blue cord, silver beads, and seven tiny wooden blocks each bearing a letter: CMWYNAF. “Is that Welsh for Mary?” joked Robin. Mary smiled. “It stands for call me when you need a friend.

Dot sat forward and tugged another handful of bracelets from the snarl. “Here’s something I believe.” She held up a green bracelet so that the sun shone clear through the colors on the beads. “I believe that when women like us meet, that our children in heaven also find their way to each other, on account of us all being in the same place and them watching over. So they’re all together—Stella your pair, Melinda’s, and mine. Right now, they’re up there, singing maybe, or playing Red Rover, and probably laughing at us sitting around trying to fix a mess we ourselves made.

Like the beads of that bracelet, all things are connected. The past, the present, the future. One long, beautiful work from the hand of Kitchimanidoo. You, me, those who have gone before us, and those who come after, we are all connected in that creation. No one is ever truly lost to us.

Off with our nightgowns, and on with the silks and taffetas! Velvet and damask and lace like foam! Buttoned gloves, coral beads, pearl rings, diamond bracelets! Perfumes, powders, gilt tiaras and satin dancing shoes!

Pride isn’t just for a parade one day a year. It is not a miniature rainbow flag or rubber bracelet with a corporate logo on it given freely on that day, like beads tossed during Mardi Gras. Pride is foremost our gay self-esteem, but it is also our bond with everyone in the LGBTQ community, everywhere. Pride is our unique way of letting everyone know that we are here, that we belong in this world. If we can say we are gay, we must not do so just to make our own lives better, easier, more transparent, and authentic. We do so to clear a path for those who can’t come out—for all the people who live in places where their freedom is not a given or who don’t feel safe in their own families—to make inroads in the straight world for them. Each time we come out, we send up a flare of hope and direction, showing the way.

This time, I sat next to a pixie girl called Takara, who had pinkish hair and wore a bright pink dress to match. She was the first forest-dweller I had seen wearing jewellery: she was wearing a necklace and bracelet of finely worked crystal beads. When she noticed my interest, she removed her bracelet and held it out to me. “Sophiel, I would be so pleased if you would wear this!” I was surprised by this kind and very selfless gesture; after all, I had not been admiring her jewels with any intention of asking her to part with them! “You’re very kind, Takara, but I was merely admiring your handiwork!” I said, trying politely to refuse her gift. “Mitsuko told me that you make your jewellery yourself. You’re very talented, they’re really lovely pieces, but I wouldn’t want to take them away from you. It’s you that makes these jewels really beautiful!

Yes,” Conor grumbles. “I asked her to make it for me. She refused, told me to do it while I was sitting on the bus. So…” He shrugs, then rummages through the container again. I deliberate, then lean toward the aisle. “Give me some.” “What?” “Give me some beads so I can make a bracelet.” He rolls his eyes. “Phillips…

I reached for the beads on my bracelet, thinking of the words on them. Taleenoi olngisoilechashur. We are all connected. How many times do we pass people on the street, whose lives are intertwined with ours in ways that remain forever unknown? How many ways are we tied to a stranger by fragile, invisible threads that bind us all together?

Zoe had dressed up for their meeting with Dr. Marriott in a long Indian skirt stitched with beads and tiny mirrors, a T-shirt embossed with CAT WOMAN STRIKES AGAIN! and a short-sleeved pink hoodie. To top it off, she wore a bracelet made from typewriter keys. She was sure Dr. Marriott would love it, seeing as typewriters were right up his alley.

rushed upstairs and slipped into new jeans and a hot-pink wool sweater with a white T underneath. Then I went into the bathroom to do my hair. I brushed it vigorously, then parted it down the middle and made two big braids, one on either side of my head. I finished the outfit off with a pretty beaded bracelet featuring every conceivable shade of pink. Perfect.

As for the bracelet Mom wore to the funeral, what I did was I converted Dad’s last voice message into Morse code, and I used sky-blue beads for silence, maroon beads for breaks between letters, violet beads for breaks between words, and long and short pieces of string between the beads for long and short beeps, which are actually called blips, I think, or something.

In a moment a fussy-looking woman came down the stairs. Do you know what I mean by fussy? I mean, everything about her was too much and too cute. She was wearing two necklaces, a pin, bracelets on each wrist, rings, earrings, and even an ankle bracelet. Her stockings were lacey, and she was, well, as Claud might have said, overly accessorized. Practically everything she wore had a bow attached. There were bows on her shoes, a bow on her belt, a bow in her hair, and a bow at the neck of her blouse. Her sweater was beaded, and she hadn’t forgotten to pin a fake rose to it. Whew! As for cute, her earrings were in the shape of ladybugs, one of her necklaces spelled her name — Linda — in gold script, her pin was in the shape of a mouse, and the bow in her hair was a ribbon with a print of tiny ducks all over it.

I zoned out while staring at the bright jade beads that clung to her neck on a twist of thick silver. They looked expensive. Probably a gift after one of Tobias’s infidelities. I wanted that timeline: tennis bracelet for the bartender at King Size, a Mercedes-Benz S-Class for the stripper in Basel, an Oscar de la Renta gown after the stewardess over the Atlantic – or more likely Claire had a contract drawn up demanding a cheque be deposited in her personal bank account for each indiscretion.

This appeared clearly in one of the earliest burial mounds found on the Hopewell farm. There, archaeologists found a young man and a young woman buried side by side. As Stuart J. Fiedel describes the burial in Prehistory of the Americas, “She was bedecked with, and surrounded by, thousands of pearl beads and buttons made of copper-covered wood and stone; she also wore copper bracelets. Both individuals wore copper earspools, copper breastplates, and necklaces of grizzly bear canines” (Fiedel). The skulls had even been buried with artificial noses made of copper. Their bodies were then surrounded by a line of copper earspools. Archaeologists found more than 100,000 pearls in the Hopewell mounds (Prufer).

More Activities to Develop Sensory-Motor Skills Sensory processing is the foundation for fine-motor skills, motor planning, and bilateral coordination. All these skills improve as the child tries the following activities that integrate the sensations. FINE-MOTOR SKILLS Flour Sifting—Spread newspaper on the kitchen floor and provide flour, scoop, and sifter. (A turn handle is easier to manipulate than a squeeze handle, but both develop fine-motor muscles in the hands.) Let the child scoop and sift. Stringing and Lacing—Provide shoelaces, lengths of yarn on plastic needles, or pipe cleaners, and buttons, macaroni, cereal “Os,” beads, spools, paper clips, and jingle bells. Making bracelets and necklaces develops eye-hand coordination, tactile discrimination, and bilateral coordination. Egg Carton Collections—The child may enjoy sorting shells, pinecones, pebbles, nuts, beans, beads, buttons, bottle caps, and other found objects and organizing them in the individual egg compartments. Household Tools—Picking up cereal pieces with tweezers; stretching rubber bands over a box to make a “guitar”; hanging napkins, doll clothes, and paper towels with clothespins; and smashing egg cartons with a mallet are activities that strengthen many skills.

Grace adored Amelia. The older woman was a close friend of her grandmother and mother, and a constant in Grace's life. She visited Amelia often. The inn was her second home. As a child she'd always raced up the stairs and raided Amelia's bedroom closet, and Amelia had encouraged her unconventional behavior. Grace had loved dressing up in vintage clothing. Attempting to walk up in a pair of high button shoes. Amelia was the first to recognize Grace's love of costume. Her enjoyment of tea parties. She'd supported Grace's dream of opening her business, Charade, when Grace sought a career. From birthdays to holidays, the costume shop was popular and successful. Grace couldn't have been happier. She admired Amelia now. Her long, braided hair was the same soft gray as her eyes. Years accumulated, but never seemed to touch her. She appeared youthful, ageless, in a sage-green tunic, belted over a paisley gauze skirt in shades of cranberry, green, and gold. Elaborate gold hoops hung at her ears, ones designed with silver beads and tiny gold bells. The thin metal chains on her three-tiered necklace sparkled with lavender rhinestones and reflective mirror discs. Bangles of charms looped her wrist. A thick, hammered-silver bracelet curved near her right elbow. A triple gold ring with three pearls arched from her index finger to her fourth. She sparkled.

But there is a time that descends upon the world when you least expect it, something like the mouth of a wolf which breathes over forests and sometimes upon the head of a person of some importance, blowing out their dreams, erasing the paths which, until then, promised a sure future - and Mușa had left the house exactly during such a time. It was summer, and from behind the butcher’s the unsettling smell of crushed meat and bones was rising.  She skirted the mound which still stands high even today in the middle of the slum and proceeded on to the market.  And what a sight unfolded before her! The sky was sighing sleepily, and from under it one could hear the jingling of beads that evoked an earlier time. Mușa took lazy steps, dragging her slippers, enjoying the feeling of stepping over tiny stones that she could feel through new soles, listening to the vulgar happiness of glass and the cossetted whispers of round pearls. She rummaged through the bracelets and rings, she perused the amber jewelry, and in the end she stopped in front of a shop selling dessert accessories: silver teaspoons, coffee cups and crystal glasses, jam plates made of fragrant wood and particularly low tables, painstakingly inlaid or painted with women half-hidden in veils. Everything lost its allure however after glimpsed the the merchant selling them, a dark-skinned man, in whose eyes smoldered desires without hope – perfidious shoots, like sprigs of hemlock.  Without taking his eyes off her, the merchant offered her a silver ibric, and in its reflections, bleached by the summer sun, swam the tiny fish of temptation. (Homeric)

Ever since the 1960s, upon the urging of Dr. T. Berry Brazelton and the all-knowing Dr. Spock,* mothers have been encouraged to read to their children at a very early age. For toddlers and preschoolers who relish this early diet of literacy, libraries become a second home, story hour is never long enough, and parents can’t finish a book without hearing a little voice beg, “Again… again.” For most literary geek girls, it’s at this age that they discover their passion for reading. Whether it’s Harold and the Purple Crayon or Strega Nona, books provide the budding literary she-geek with a glimpse into an all-new world of magic and make-believe—and once she visits, she immediately wants to apply for full-time citizenship. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” —author Joan Didion, in The White Album While some children spend their summers sweating on community sports teams or learning Indigo Girls songs at sleep-away camp, our beloved bookworms are more interested in joining their local library’s summer reading program, completing twenty-five books during vacation, and earning a certificate of recognition signed by their city’s mayor. (Plus, that Sony Bloggie Touch the library is giving away to the person who logs the most hours reading isn’t the worst incentive, either. It’ll come in handy for that book review YouTube channel she’s been thinking about starting!) When school starts back up again, her friends will inevitably show off their tan lines and pony bead friendship bracelets, and our geek girl will politely oblige by oohing and aahing accordingly. But secretly she’s bursting with pride over her summer’s battle scars—the numerous paper cuts she got while feverishly turning the pages of all seven Harry Potter books.

between about 50,000 to 10,000 years ago, the period scholars call the Upper Paleolithic, artistic expression burst forth in many parts of the world. Humans began to produce not only paintings and carvings but also necklaces, bracelets, pendants, beads, and ornamental headgear.

In Sungir, Russia, archaeologists discovered in 1955 a 30,000-year-old burial site belonging to a mammoth-hunting culture. In one grave they found the skeleton of a fifty-year-old man, covered with strings of mammoth ivory beads, containing about 3,000 beads in total. On the dead man’s head was a hat decorated with fox teeth, and on his wrists twenty-five ivory bracelets. Other graves from the same site contained

the Mediterranean region’s climate started to warm and become wetter starting 18,000 years ago, archaeological sites become more numerous and widespread, creeping into areas now occupied by the desert. The culmination of this population boom was a period called the Natufian, dated to between 14,700 and 11,600 years ago.7 The early Natufian was a sort of golden era of hunting and gathering. Thanks to a benevolent climate and many natural resources, the Natufians were fabulously wealthy by the standards of most hunter-gatherers. They lived by harvesting the abundant wild cereals that naturally grow in this region, and they also hunted animals, especially gazelle. The Natufians evidently had so much to eat that they were able to settle permanently in large villages, with as many as 100 to 150 people, building small houses with stone foundations. They also made beautiful art objects, such as bead necklaces and bracelets and carved figurines, they exchanged with distant groups for exotic shells, and they buried their dead in elaborate graves. If there ever was a Garden of Eden for hunter-gatherers, this must have been it. But then crisis struck 12,800 years ago. All of a sudden, the world’s climate deteriorated abruptly, perhaps because an enormous glacial lake in North America emptied suddenly into the Atlantic, temporarily disrupting the Gulf Stream and wreaking havoc with global weather patterns.8 This event, called the Younger Dryas,9 effectively plunged the world back into Ice Age conditions for hundreds of years. Imagine

February 16: Marilyn flies to Seoul, South Korea, to begin entertaining the troops at ten different sites. Her outfit for her performances includes a skin-tight, low-cut, plum-colored crepe cocktail dress, with bugle beads and thin spaghetti straps, and high heeled sandals, with a matching long-sleeved bolero jacket she only wears when not on stage. Other than hoop earrings and a diamond brooch and bracelet, she wears no jewelry. Between performances, she covers over two hundred miles, wearing a flight jacket and combat boots. Neither snow nor sub-zero temperatures seem to impede her enthusiastic shows.

Come Neti, my chief keeper of the gates of Kur, and listen carefully to what I say: Lock up and bolt the seven gates of Kur, then, one by one, open each gate and let Innana enter through the crack. Bring her down. But as she enters, take her regal costume from her, take the crown, the necklace, and the beads that fall across her breast, the golden breastplate on her chest, the bracelet and the rod and line. Strip her of everything, even the royal robe, and let the holy priestess of the earth, the queen of heaven, enter here bowed low.

Every time Amazons swarmed beneath them, demanding their surrender, Hazel made a crate of jewelry explode, burying their enemies in a Niagara Falls of gold and silver. When they got to the bottom of the ladder, they found a scene that looked like Mardi Gras Armageddon—Amazons trapped up to their necks in bead necklaces, several more upside down in a mountain of amethyst earrings, and a battle forklift buried in silver charm bracelets.

If I wear the beaded bracelet Ita gave me, this test won’t hurt. If I avoid all the cracks in the floor, my white cell count will be normal. If I eat twelve grapes at midnight on New Year’s Eve, I won’t die this year.

THE STONES WERE putting out a new edition of Exile on Main Street, which was another excuse for a party at our house. It’s always fun to watch Keith arrive anywhere, never a quiet entrance. He’s just got so much in motion on him: earrings, bracelets, rings; things twisted into his hair, headband, and hat; shirt unbuttoned; scarves, beads, and necklaces, plus a belt with a skull or something similar

You are the ones who came looking for us,” I hiss at him. “Now that you’ve found us, are you regretting that we have mouths and hands that can grasp you as you grasp us?” That growl is building to bestial ferocity in his chest as I hold onto his wrists, fingers digging into his warm skin, displacing the beaded bracelets he wears.

Jasmine emerged from her bedroom in a crystal-embellished ivory organza dress over sheer trousers with a turquoise beaded peacock cape over her shoulders. She felt like she was floating in the dress as Nadia walked behind her, holding the train of her cape. Suddenly, Jasmine realized something was missing. "Just a moment, please." She turned back swiftly, returning to her bedroom and dressing table. Pulling open the drawer, she found the marble jewelry box she was looking for, with a jade cuff bracelet inside. It wouldn't match her coronation robes, but it was just the finishing touch Jasmine needed: her mother's favorite piece of jewelry.

At birth, every child was given a Kiyomo Bracelet to wear. Each bead had a purpose—from storing medical records to taking a picture or projecting a free-floating informational screen, much like a web page but suspended in midair.

What breathtaking stories do gemstones hold within their sparkling depths, weaving tales of love, passion, and resilience?

Medical alert bracelets for women are designed to blend practicality with style, providing a range of options that suit various tastes and preferences. Designs: These bracelets often come in a variety of designs, including sleek and simple metal bands, elegant chains with attached medical tags, or fashionable bracelets made of leather, silicone, or beads. Some may feature decorative elements or patterns, catering to different fashion preferences.