Liminal Quotes

“The question is not what you look at, but what you see. It is only necessary to behold the least fact or phenomenon, however familiar, from a point a hair's breadth aside from our habitual path or routine, to be overcome, enchanted by its beauty and significance.”
― Henry David Thoreau

“The greatest forces lie in the region of the uncomprehended.”
― George MacDonald, A Dish of Orts

“Complexity’s biggest dangers arise when we are mired in assumptions and boxed into existing sectors and industries instead of noticing new patterns on the fringe and changes emerging over time.”
― Roger Spitz, The Definitive Guide to Thriving on Disruption: Volume IV - Disruption as a Springboard to Value Creation

“I now wear the memory of nothingness
a piece of white sail wrapped like second skin.”
― Helene Cardona, Life in Suspension: La Vie Suspendue

“You listen to the silence
drawn on the ashes of ancient sacrifices.”
― Helene Cardona, Life in Suspension: La Vie Suspendue

“I become ocean, mercury, silver
shimmers, fairy tales, fascinated.”
― Helene Cardona, Life in Suspension: La Vie Suspendue

“We packed
whole lives into bundles in search
of what chooses us, what wants to come
back to the surface, what needs to be said.
We had so many dreams
we didn’t know what to make of them.”
― Helene Cardona, Life in Suspension: La Vie Suspendue

“Bridges are thresholds to other realities, archetypal, primal symbols of shifting consciousness. They are passageways, conduits, and connectors that connote transitioning, crossing borders, and changing perspectives. Bridges span liminal spaces between worlds, spaces I call nepantla, a Nahuatl word meaning tierra entre medio.”
― Gloria E. Anzaldúa, Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza

“On the wall of time to come
a window appears.
I open it, let angels in.”
― Helene Cardona, Life in Suspension: La Vie Suspendue

“At first, you must be willing to enter a state of liminality. In other words, you must be willing to enter a state in which you stand on the threshold and are no longer grasping the worldviews and sense of yourself that you held in the past, nor yet completely ready to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. You stand on the threshold, the doorsill, neither in one world nor another. This can be a frightening place to be.”
― Laurence Galian, Alien Parasites: 40 Gnostic Truths to Defeat the Archon Invasion!

“I hear my mother’s voice echo
you’re all the sunlight
that’s ever been in my life.”
― Helene Cardona, Life in Suspension: La Vie Suspendue

“Eternity, in the sense of the pools, manifests as an enigma within the mathematical fabric of existence. It represents a fractal realm in which the notion of endless duration deviates from conventional human experience. Far beyond the finite bounds of what we call ‘time,’ eternity morphs into a disorienting continuum of perpetual recurrence and unbounded expansion. The cyan merely acts as a catalyst to understanding.

Within this eerie realm, space dissolves into a concept, and the usual arithmetic constraints fail to hold sway. The rooms become a ceaseless amalgamation of symbolic sequences and iterations, where infinite series relentlessly converge and diverge, oscillating in rhythm to the waves.

The wave function collapses when th//Цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан HELP ME цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан Цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан HELP ME цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан”
― Antonio Melonio

“In every place, no matter where you look, there are nooks that one seems to see, odd little spaces and hidden corners that hide from the world in plain sight. In every single square inch of the world, no matter how populated, there are what could be called liminal places, tiny little spaces, sometimes vast stretches,
where the average laws of space and time are not wholly adhered to, you might say.”
― John Kreiter, The Art of Transmutation

“La vida secreta de Maurice puede comprenderse ya; era en parte brutal, en parte ideal, como sus sueños.”
― E.M. Forster, Maurice

“For metaphor, we may suggest, is not simply a matter of what appears on the printed page or in, for example, the work of visual art; it is rather the bodying-forth [stet] of sets of correspondences of which, in some sense, we have all, in specific interpretative communities, been aware in what we might define as a liminal way, hovering somewhere around the threshold of articulation.”
― David Punter, Metaphor

“Eternity, in the sense of the pools, manifests as an enigma within the mathematical fabric of existence. It represents a fractal realm in which the notion of endless duration deviates from conventional human experience. Far beyond the finite bounds of what we call ‘time,’ eternity morphs into a disorienting continuum of perpetual recurrence and unbounded expansion. The cyan merely acts as a catalyst to understanding.

Within this eerie realm, space dissolves into a concept, and the usual arithmetic constraints fail to hold sway. The rooms become a ceaseless amalgamation of symbolic sequences and iterations, where infinite series relentlessly converge and diverge, oscillating in rhythm to the waves.

The wave function collapses when th//Цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан HELP ME цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан...........................”
― Antonio Melonio

“The creature scrambled closer, walking on long legs that were of polished metal. Its tall and thin torso, an amalgamation of metal rods and black, pulsing organic parts, was bent and grated against the ceiling, while its head looked like a flat iron with eyes. Short and stubby steel teeth lined its long jaws. The entire room smelled of hot metal and molten rubber.”
― Antonio Melonio, Cyan Waters: A Story From the Poolrooms

“Eternity, in the sense of the pools, manifests as an enigma within the mathematical fabric of existence. It represents a fractal realm in which the notion of endless duration deviates from conventional human experience. Far beyond the finite bounds of what we call ‘time,’ eternity morphs into a disorienting continuum of perpetual recurrence and unbounded expansion. The cyan merely acts as a catalyst to understanding.

Within this eerie realm, space dissolves into a concept, and the usual arithmetic constraints fail to hold sway. The rooms become a ceaseless amalgamation of symbolic sequences and iterations, where infinite series relentlessly converge and diverge, oscillating in rhythm to the waves.

The wave function collapses when th//Цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан HELP ME цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан Цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан HELP ME цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан цијан..................”
― Antonio Melonio, Cyan Waters: A Story From the Poolrooms

“What did it matter? There was no changing it. What’s done is done and cannot be undone. At least they were together. Together in the cyan, cyan, cyan.”
― Antonio Melonio, Cyan Waters: A Story From the Poolrooms

“What pleases you and brings you pleasure? What does that pleasure teach you about yourself? Where do you find deep nourishment? Where do you encounter beauty that steals your breath away? What sensual experiences bring about an abiding sense of peace and calmness? What sensual encounters feel overtly magical and mystical? Asking and following these questions faithfully will lead you to discover the particular liminal doors that constellate in the spaces of the everyday.
The doors are everywhere, but, like the faeries in stories, they are very good at hiding. The only way to find them is to get a feel for them. We simply have to know them for what they are and be prepared to find out which ones we need to enter and which shall remain closed for us. Just as we find and open doors to our homes and offices, our schools and studios, we find and open the doors that lead us into the extraordinary.”
― Briana Saussy, Making Magic: Weaving Together the Everyday and the Extraordinary

“Dry heather plains flanked the lonely road. Rolling hills curtained off the horizon. Despite having never been here before, all was familiar in the young lad’s head. An inexplicable malaise surged through him as the cars passed an old fuel station, its forecourt empty, and the seashell logo faded from the entrance sign.”
― Louis Saunders, The Retreat

“Out to one side of the group, Alice was not paying attention to any of the rest of them. She was forging her own path, present in body but mentally alone in a deep, dark wood.”
― Fiona Barnett

“Not everything that knocks wants to come in. Some things knock because they already have.”
― Arabella Sveinsdottir, The Roof Was Never Empty: A Haunting Metaphysical Horror About Family Secrets, Doppelgangers, and the Roof That Watches

“A glitch in the matrix, a glitch in the algorithm, everyone stuck on repeat. Or maybe in retreat.
“I’m not really here,” Ania muttered again, and then she wasn’t.”
― BB Clifford

“Candi di Penghujung Ruh
(Jenawi — Khajuraho)

Tubuhku:
batu yang merindu,
belerang hitam tanpa tabuhan.

Jenawi menggerus diriku
kersani yang tak beriba,
mengiris daging sepi
menguliti tulang kenanganku.
Asap dari tungku purba
melilit dalam napas—
meminjam suara jagat bawah.

Di kejauhan,
Khajuraho bergemerincing
laksana leluhur bangkit,
reliefnya membeku di dalam darah,
menusuk di sela urat,
mengubah hasrat menjadi beban
dan beban menjadi sujud.

Aku terbelah:
setengah terbakar lantaran pamrih,
setengah tenggelam lantaran lupa.
Bukan cinta.
Bukan kematian.
Hanya bayang dewa
yang tak memberi nama.

Tanah di antara dua candi
retak layaknya rahim tua:
melahirkan suara tanpa asahan,
meneteskan madu yang telah membatu,
menciptakan lumut dari tangis
yang tak kasat mata.

Lidahku—
bukan lagi lidah:
gesekan besi yang tak mampu menyebut asalnya.
Bibirku—
bukan lagi bibir:
pecahan arca yang kehilangan ruh.

Engkau datang,
bukan sebagai cahaya,
bukan sebagai kematian,
hanya penanda kedahsyatan
yang menyusup laksana angin
yang bukan angin.

Aku hanya menyembunyikan
serpihan hatiku
di sela batumu,
semoga
ketika rembulan runtuh dalam jatuhnya,
namaku kembali terperangah
dalam ingatan yang tak memberi maaf.

Dan jagat ini
terbelah pelan-pelan
layaknya kidung yang disembelih
tapi tak mati-mati.

Desember 2025”
― Titon Rahmawan