There is no yet in paradise. -
It’s night, yet I see the sun, clearly, in my mind’s eye.
I have two eyes in my head, and yet there is a third, inside my head, which cannot be seen, and yet it is there, I know it is there, because it is night, yet I see the sun.
I have money, yet I want more.
I want to go to bed, yet I also want to stay up longer, and ponder words, and make sentences.
There are some sentences that are very short, yet say a great deal.
Electricity is real, yet it cannot be seen.
The dinosaurs were huge and fierce, yet they are all dead.
We have a telephone, yet we rarely use it, since my wife now uses a Smartphone, and has given me her old Blackberry, which spends most of its time on the table, and vibrates when it “rings,” and makes tinkling sounds, and a tiny screen lights up showing a view of Seattle.
It is not yet possible to deal with the problem of freedom in all its fullness… What we have been trying to define is the being of man in so far as he conditions the appearance of nothingness and this being has appeared to us as freedom… But we are not yet in a position to consider freedom as an inner structure of consciousness. We lack for the moment both the instruments and technique to permit us to succeed in that enterprise… for the nothing envisaged would not yet have the sense of nothingness… - from Being and Nothingness by Jean Paul Sartre
I hope to see the world relieved of the forces that cause climate change, and that the human beings that live upon its surface come to consume less oil and coal, particularly those human beings that dwell in China and the United States in which the quest for industrial power has become so ingrained that it would appear futile to bring about other modes of conduct less harmful to the ecology. And yet I hope this is not the case, and that I am wrong, which, as it often happens I am.
And Yet The Town Moves is a Japanese manga written and illustrated by Masakazu Ishiguro. The manga started serialization in Young King OURs magazine on March 30th, 2005, and twelve bound volumes have been released in Japan as of December, 2013. The series follows the exploits of whiny Hotori Arashiyama and her friends, family, neighbors, shopkeepers and colleagues at the local maid café. Although the storyline is realistically depicted, it is interspersed with stories involving aliens, ghosts, and the paranormal.
The sole’s ease of skinning and filleting, and its close-grained yet delicate flesh make it ideal for poaching. - from “Fish Filets in White Wine Sauce,” by Julia Childs
The rails shine in the sun and if you put your ears to them you can sometimes hear the vibration of a coming train, or so I am told, and have attempted this on several occasions with no results, yet this may be due to the fact that in no instance in which my ear touched the rail was a train coming, and nothing to indicate the approach of a train, as grasshoppers passed overhead, making a kind of buzzing sound, which may also have detracted from my ability to hear a train approaching, or anything in the rail other than the silence of the steel itself.
Plato rejects the body, yet tells us (simultaneously) how necessary it is.
God can new create the body, and change it into a spirit; but can a body, remaining a body, be at the same time a spirit? or can it be a body and yet not be in a place? is it not determined so, that remaining in a place it cannot be out of it? If these things could be otherwise, then the same thing at the same time could be a body and a spirit, limited and unlimited, a body yet no body, one and yet many, the same and not the same, that is, it should not be itself. From Enchiridian Theologicum anti-Romanum by Edward Cardwell
I like to greet people in public places and at public gatherings, it is my impulse to go up and say hello and sometimes to extend my right hand to these persons, in a gesture of benevolence and goodwill, yet I frequently forget names, so that instead of greeting such people, I may turn away and pretend not to see them, or, if they see me and I see that they see me, yet I will not turn away but go to them and say hi, in a casual manner, thus hoping to mask the embarrassment of my ignorance with a mark of breezy insouciance, yet not too much insouciance, so that I may also seem to dismiss them.
Letters make words what words are, for without letters there would be no words, since letters are to words what the skeleton is to the body, however evident the comparison may seem, yet there is truth in it, and structure, since that is what a skeleton is, and letters engorge words, causing them to have a certain sound and meaning, yet there are those words, such as phlegm, or amoeba, in which a letter will exist having no sound or apparent purpose, but come alive in the mind, wiggling its way through the nerves, creating images of itself, yet none so apparent as broadcast, or yeoman.
I have not yet set sight on a yeti.
Yet there is time, I think, to work my way into a state of introspection, and generate images of things yet unseen, yet unheard, yet walking on feet or hooves, or by some other mode of transportation, the which I have not yet witnessed, or dreamt of, yet there be occasion to do so, and no other reason than that words allow for some things to happen that as yet have not had sufficient inducement to have been brought into being, have not yet existed, have not yet happened, and simmer inchoate in warm potentiality, like sperm cells once thought to contain little humans, if only for the pleasures of my own intellect, yet I hope to bring them to life.