The bow tie started off with one of my friends, Kunta Littlejohn. He said if you want to be anybody, you've got to rock the bow tie. I dismissed it at first, but later he told me he had non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, so I decided to wear the bow tie to support him. And as he got better, I came to learn the power of the bow tie.
Despotism may govern without faith, but liberty cannot. How is it possible that society should escape destruction if the moral tie is not strengthened in proportion as the political tie is relaxed? And what can be done with a people who are their own masters if they are not submissive to the Deity?
Alexis de Tocqueville
The best birthday present I ever got from my grandpa was a skinny black tie. It didn't come in a bag, a box, or even rolled up in tissue paper. It came wrapped in wisdom. As soon as he gave it to me he said, 'A tie would make a stronger impression on your boss if you used it as a blindfold and kidnapped him. That's why I bought you a black one.
Your answer is the logical, coherent answer an absolutely normal person would give: It's a tie! A lunatic, however, would say that what I have around my neck is a ridiculous, useless bit of colored cloth tied in a very complicated way, which makes it harder to get air into your lungs and difficult to turn your neck. I have to be careful when I'm anywhere near a fan, or I could be strangled by this bit of cloth. If a lunatic were to ask me what this tie is for, I would have to say, absolutely nothing. It's not even purely decorative, since nowadays it's become a symbol of slavery, power, aloofness. The only really useful function a tie serves is the sense of relief when you get home and take it off; you feel as if you've freed yourself from something, though quite what you don't know.
For me, wearing a tie is a pleasure, a recherche one but a pleasure nonetheless. You could say that I'm avoiding tie avoidance. My own gorgeous collection runs into hundreds and I buy them the way I buy books - I simply can't pass a shop. I have loved them since I could spend my own money on them.
I don't suppose I can wear the flamingo tie, " he said as he pulled on black socks. "It's a bit festive, given the occasion, " I responded. "Can't wear it to the opera, " said the Colonel, almost smiling. "Can't wear it to a funeral. Can't use it to hang myself. It's a bit useless, as ties go." I gave him a tie.
And that was when I saw what Cassidy had done to herself: the gold and red ribbing on her sweater-vest, the matching stripes on her tie, the gray uniform skirt, and the navy blazer draped over her arm... "Is that a Gryffindor tie?" I asked. "And an official Harry Potter Merchandise sweater-vest, " she confirmed smugly.
I wont take no for an answer. I will use this to bind you to my bed until you change your mind if you dont answer the way I want you to. Will you marry me?" She grinned. "I dont know." Her attention fixed on the tie for a few seconds before she met his gaze again. "I might be tempted to say no just to get you to tie me to your bed.
It is time to put up a love-swing!Tie the body and then tie the mind so that they swing between the arms of the Secret One you love,Bring the water that falls from the clouds to your eyes,and cover yourself inside entirely with the shadow of night.Bring your face up close to his ear,and then talk only about what you want deeply to happen.
Knot the tie and go to work, unknot the tie and go to sleep. I sleep. I dream. I wake. I sing. I get out the hammer and start knocking in the wooden pegs that affix the meaning to the landscape, the inner life to the body, the names to the things. I float too much to wander, like you, in the real world. I envy it but that's the dealio""you're a train and I'm a trainstation and when I try to guess your trajectory I end up telling my own story.
I try not to match too much. You know, if there's a blue coat and a blue shirt and a blue tie, I try to stay away from that. I'd rather have a blue coat and a yellow shirt and a pink tie. I don't like to look too matching. You know those mismatched socks kids wear? That's my idea of a good suit.
There is a story in the book Night Shift, called 'The Mangler,' about a laundry machine that takes on a sort of malignant life. I worked in a laundry for about a year and a half after I got out of college. It was the only job I could find to support my wife and our first child. There was a fellow there that had no hands or forearms. He simply had hooks. This is one of the things that they don't tell you about when you become management. You have to wear a tie. It was this fellow's tie that did him in.
To its devotees the bowtie suggests iconoclasm of an Old World sort, a fusty adherence to a contrarian point of view. The bowtie hints at intellectualism, real or feigned, and sometimes suggests technical acumen, perhaps because it is so hard to tie. BowTies are worn by magicians, country doctors, lawyers and professors and by people hoping to look like the above. But perhaps most of all, wearing a bow tie is a way of broadcasting an aggressive lack of concern for what other people think.
Warren St. John
On Good Friday last year the SS found some pretext to punish 60 priests with an hour on "the tree." That is the mildest camp punishment. They tie a man's hands together behind his back, palms facing out and fingers pointing backward. Then they turn his hands inwards, tie a chain around his wrists and hoist him up by it. His own wight twists his joints and pulls them apart... Several of the priest who were hung up last year never recovered and died. If you don't have a strong heart, you don't survive it. Many have a permanently crippled hand.
Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.
Isn't that the tie Lily bought for your birthday?" Evan looked down to examine it. It was paisley, a kaleidoscope of color. "Yes it is, as a matter of fact. Good memory. What do you think? Too much?" "It doesn't matter what I think." "But you don't like it." "I think that if you want to wear it, you should wear it." Evan seemed momentarily undecided. "Why do you do that?" "Do what?" "Refuse to answer a simple question." "Because my opinion is irrelevant. You should wear what you want." "Just tell me, okay?" "I don't like your tie." "Really? Why not?" "Because it's ugly." "It's not ugly." Colin nodded. "Okay." "You don't know what you're talking about." "Probably." "You don't even wear ties." "You're right." "So why do I care what you think?" "I don't know." Evan scowled. "Talking to you can be infuriating, you know." "I know. You've said that before." "Of course I've said it before! Because it's true! Didn't we just talk about this the other night? You don't have to say whatever pops into your head." "But you asked." "Just... Oh, forget it." He turned and started back toward the house. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" "Where are you going?" Evan walked a couple of steps before answering without turning around. "To change my damn tie. And by the way Margolis was right. Your face still looks like it was run through a meat grinder." Colin smiled. "Hey, Evan!" Evan stopped and turned. "What?" "Thanks." "For what?" "For everything." "Yeah, yeah. You're just lucky I won't tell Lily what you said." "You can if you'd like. I already told her." Evan starred. "Of course you did.