Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear,_x000D_ _x000D_ And he shows them pearly white._x000D_ _x000D_ Just a jackknife has Macheath, dear,_x000D_ _x000D_ And he keeps them out of sight.
Interpretation
This quote uses the imagery of a shark to suggest that danger can be hidden behind a charming exterior.
The lines illustrate the contrast between outward appearances and hidden dangers. The shark, often seen as a fearsome creature, possesses 'pretty teeth' that lure attention, paralleling how different individuals or situations might hide malevolence beneath a pleasing facade. The reference to 'jackknife' suggests a similarly deceptive character, reminding us to be vigilant and not take surface qualities at face value.
In practice
In a discussion about trust and betrayal, one might say, 'Oh, the shark has pretty teeth, dear.'
I like to write about painting because I think visually. I see my writing as blocks of color before it forms itself. I think I also care about painting because I'm not musical. Painting to me is not a metaphor for writing, but something people do that can never be reduced to words.
We attempted perfection; we wanted an object to be without flaw, so we cut the papers with a razor, pasted them down meticulously, but it buckled and was ruined... that is why we decided to tear prewrinkled paper, so that in the finished work of art imperfection would be an integral part, as if at birth death were built in.
A composer is not only an architect but also an inventor, and he should not build houses in which he cannot live.
Film acting, if you don't play the lead, you come, and you do your scenes in a few days, and you act with a couple of colleagues. All the rest of the actors you never see, and you don't even meet many of them. And you don't know what will happen with what you've done. Maybe it will be in the film, maybe it will not.
We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame. If white people are pleased, we are glad. If they are not, it doesn't matter. We know we are beautiful. And ugly too. The tom-tom cries and the tom-tom laughs. If colored people are pleased, we are glad. If they are not, it doesn't matter either. We build our temples for tomorrow, strong as we know how, and we stand on top of the mountain, free within ourselves.
So to the wretched writer I should like to say that there’s one body only whose request for your caresses is not vulgar, is not unchaste, untoward, or impolite: the body of your work itself; for you must remember that your attentions will not merely celebrate a beauty but create one; that yours is love that brings it own birth with it, just as Plato has declared, and that you should therefore give up the blue things of this world in favor of the words which say them
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