The outcome of any serious research can only be to make two questions grow where only one grew before.
Thorstein VeblenRead
The visible imperfections of hand-wrought goods, being honorific, are accounted marks of superiority in point of beauty, or serviceability, or both.
Interpretation
Imperfections in handmade items add character and beauty, enhancing their value.
Thorstein Veblen suggests that the flaws inherent in handmade goods distinguish them from mass-produced items, elevating their beauty and functionality. This perspective honors the craftsmanship involved, as imperfections reveal authenticity and human effort, ultimately making these items more desirable.
In practice
In an art gallery discussing the value of handmade pottery.
The outcome of any serious research can only be to make two questions grow where only one grew before.
Conspicuous consumption of valuable goods is a means of reputability to the gentleman of leisure.
In order to stand well in the eyes of the community, it is necessary to come up to a certain, somewhat indefinite, conventional standard of wealth.
With the exception of the instinct of self-preservation, the propensity for emulation is probably the strongest and most alert and persistent of the economic motives proper.
The basis on which good repute in any highly organized industrial community ultimately rests is pecuniary strength; and the means of showing pecuniary strength, and so of gaining or retaining a good name, are leisure and a conspicuous consumption of goods.
In itself and in its consequences the life of leisure is beautiful and ennobling in all civilised men's eyes.
I can't work without a model. I won't say I turn my back on nature ruthlessly in order to turn a study into a picture, arranging the colors, enlarging and simplifying; but in the matter of form I am too afraid of departing from the possible and the true.
When something really hits me, it makes me want to either jump off something really high or lie down and be buried. I want people to get hit and caught by my music.
I write poetry because I can’t disobey the impulse; it would be like blocking a spring that surges up in my throat. For a long time I’ve been the servant of the song that comes, that appears and can’t be buried away. How to seal myself up now?…It no longer matters to me who receives what I submit. What I carry out is, in that respect, greater and deeper than I, I am merely the channel.
Beauty is truth's smile when she beholds her own face in a perfect mirror.
If the writing is honest it cannot be separated from the man who wrote it.
I'm not a journalist; I'm a poet.
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