The ear disapproves but tolerates certain musical pieces; transfer them into the domain of our nose, and we will be forced to flee.
Jean CocteauRead
You've never seen death? Look in the mirror every day and you will see it like bees working in a glass hive.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that self-reflection reveals the inevitability of death, akin to observing the work of bees in a hive.
In this quote, Jean Cocteau emphasizes that the contemplation of our mortality is a daily reality that can be observed through self-reflection. He likens this introspection to watching bees in a glass hive, implying that just as the bees are busy with life, our awareness of death is ever-present, urging us to acknowledge the profound truth of our existence and the passage of time.
In practice
During a philosophical discussion on the nature of existence, you could use this quote to illustrate the importance of recognizing our mortality.
The ear disapproves but tolerates certain musical pieces; transfer them into the domain of our nose, and we will be forced to flee.
One must be a living man and a posthumous artist.
All good music resembles something. Good music stirs by its mysterious resemblance to the objects and feelings which motivated it.
Nothing ever gets anywhere. The earth keeps turning round and gets nowhere. The moment is the only thing that counts.
Listen carefully to first criticisms made of your work. Note just what it is about your work that critics don't like - then cultivate it. That's the only part of your work that's individual and worth keeping.
Watch yourself all your life in a mirror and you'll see Death at work like bees in a glass hive.
The soul in its nature loves God and longs to be at one with Him in the noble love of a daughter for a noble father; but coming to human birth and lured by the courtships of this sphere, she takes up with another love, a mortal, leaves her father and falls.
When it comes right down to it, all you have is your self. Your Self is a sun with a thousand rays.
I would argue that nothing gives life more purpose than the realization that every moment of consciousness is a precious and fragile gift.
For, in truth, an image is only dead matter shaped by the craftsman's hand. But we have no sensible image of sensible matter, but an image that is perceived by the mind alone: God, who alone is truly God.
I was talking to a Zen master the other day and he said, "You shall be my disciple."I looked at him and said, "Who was Buddha's teacher?" He looked at me in a very odd way for a moment and then he burst into laughter and handed me a piece of clover.
To use words to sense reality is like going with a lamp to search for darkness.
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