Literary notes about Intertwine (AI summary)
In literature, "intertwine" is often employed to evoke images of merging and blending, whether describing physical elements or abstract connections. Writers use it to illustrate the delicate braiding of nature—a vine entwining with a tree branch to form a natural arch [1, 2]—or to represent the inextricable mingling of emotions, where love and hate or passion and modesty merge into a single, complex whole [3, 4]. The term also captures the idea of separate strands uniting to form a cohesive unit, much like individual fingers joining to create a grasp or distinct narratives converging into a richer tapestry [5, 6]. Overall, "intertwine" serves as a versatile metaphor that links tangible interlacing in the natural world with the interconnection of human experiences and ideas [7, 8].
- As a rule, the branches of the trees intertwine; but in some cases they only bend towards each other, and kiss when the wind blows.
— from Ballads of Romance and ChivalryPopular Ballads of the Olden Times - First Series by Frank Sidgwick - They grow up so close together that their roots mingle and their stalks intertwine.
— from Harper's New Monthly Magazine Vol. IV, No. 19, Dec 1851 by Various - Intensest love and intensest hate can, at the same moment, intertwine their fibres in inextricable blending.
— from Napoleon Bonaparte by John S. C. (John Stevens Cabot) Abbott - Here the idea of modesty subdues passion like a wonderful sordine, and surrender and tenderness intertwine with the ideals of modesty.
— from Paul Verlaine by Stefan Zweig - " Rachel glanced at him askance, and one little hand trembled so on the other that she had to intertwine their fingers strongly.
— from The Bird in the Box by Mary M. (Mary Martha) Mears - that two human hearts and minds may intertwine in mutual support, and look up to the Infinite.
— from Words of Cheer for the Tempted, the Toiling, and the Sorrowing by T. S. (Timothy Shay) Arthur - Spiders' webs the carved pillars intertwine, The green gauze now is also pasted on the straw windows!
— from Hung Lou Meng, or, the Dream of the Red Chamber, a Chinese Novel, Book I by Xueqin Cao - Sleep, dearest, sleep; in slumber thou art mine; Sleep, dearest, sleep; our souls still intertwine.
— from Fleurs De Lys, and Other Poems by Arthur Weir
