There is no sadder sight in the world than to see a beautiful theory killed by a brutal fact.
Thomas HuxleyRead
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There is no sadder sight in the world than to see a beautiful theory killed by a brutal fact.
Not that it was beautiful, but that I found some order there.
Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.
I don't have to have a child come from my womb to have a connection. Children that are already born are beautiful to me. I can definitely be a mother to them.
Words are really beautiful, but they're limited. Words are very male, very structured. But the voice is the netherworld, the darkness, where there's nothing to hang onto. The voice comes from a part of you that just knows and expresses and is.
I have no advice for anybody; except to, you know, be awake enough to see where you are at any given time, and how that is beautiful, and has poetry inside. Even places you hate.
Real wealth consists in things of utility and beauty, in things that help to create strong, beautiful bodies and surroundings inspiring to live in.
The writer, when he is also an artist, is someone who admits what others don't dare reveal.
Music is a beautiful opiate, if you don't take it too seriously.
You only have to look at the Medusa straight on to see her. And she's not deadly. She's beautiful and she's laughing.
Beautiful things don't ask for attention.
The rock & roll industry is very incestuous, and we have all been close at one time or another. A lot of beautiful music and a lot of beautiful times came from that. A lot of pain, too, because, inevitably, different relationships broke up.
The point of the game is not how well the individual does, but whether the team wins. That's the beautiful heart of the game, the blending of personalities, the mutual sacrifices for the group success.
But when the self speaks to the self, who is speaking? The entombed soul, the spirit driven in, in, in to the central catacomb; the self that took the veil and left the world -- a coward perhaps, yet somehow beautiful, as it flits with its lantern restlessly up and down the dark corridors.
There shouldn't be a segregation of women over a size 16, it should just be all women who want to wear beautiful clothes.
The most important message is to let me just focus on making the most beautiful normcore clothes, but as luxurious as possible.
But...books are so much more. Some of them are webs; you can feel your way along their threads, but just barely, into strange and dark corners. Some of them are balloons bobbing up through the sky: totally self-contained, and unreachable, but beautiful to watch. And some of them―the best ones―are doors.
And with each step my heart broke for the person I would never find, the person who'd love me. And then I would remember I had a wife at home who loved me, or later that my wife had left me and I was terrirfied, or again later that I had a beautiful alcoholic girlfriend who would make me happy forever. But every time I entered the place there were veiled faces promising everything and then clarifying quickly into the dull, the usual, looking up at me and making the same mistake.
What concerns me when I work, is not whether the picture is a landscape, or whether it's pastoral, or whether somebody will see a sunset in it. What concerns me is - did I make a beautiful picture?
It would be beautiful to photograph the winners of everything from Nobel to booby prize, clutching trophy, or money or certificate, solemn or smiling or tear stained or bloody, on the precarious pinnacle of the human landscape.
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