His thoughts were slippery, elusive, tangled strands of wet white spaghetti which he could neither grasp nor leave alone.
The earth is literally a mirror of thoughts. Objects themselves are embodied thoughts.
She thinks of things in her own life, for there is little else to think about.
One idea in particular: that we may accept a limitation on our actions but never, under no circumstances, must we accept restriction on our thinking.
Thinking, meditating, imagining are not anomalous acts - they are the normal respiration of the intelligence.
But these thoughts, which were as random and fleeting as clouds, were simply the outside layer of skin on a very large onion.