Oh, no, it wasn't the airplanes. It was Beauty killed the Beast.
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The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.
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A human being is a part of a whole, called by us "universe", a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest.. A kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.
prison nature time beauty rest human kind living compassion universe thoughts consciousness feelings experiences space personal desires affection creatures free delusion part embrace
Never regard study as a duty but as an enviable opportunity to learn to know the liberating influence of beauty in the realm of the spirit for your own personal joy and to the profit of the community to which your later works belong.
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You shall go with me, newly married bride, And gaze upon a merrier multitude. White armed Nuala, Aengus of the Birds, Feachra of the hurtling form, and himWho is the ruler of the Western Host, Finvara, and their Land of Heart's Desire. Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood, But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.
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Adversity draws men together and produces beauty and harmony in life's relationships, just as the cold of winter produces ice flowers on the window panes, which vanish with the warmth.
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We all carry around so much pain in our hearts. Love and pain and beauty. They all seem to go together like one little tidy confusing package. It's a messy business, life. It's hard to figure full of surprises. Some good. Some bad.
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Beauty for some provides escape, who gain a happiness in eyeing the gorgeous buttocks of the ape or Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.
beauty happiness gain autumn escape dying sunsets
There is no mystery, at least not the kind you want. In real life there are no fogbound moors or clues on matchbooks or fifth columnists waiting to be unmasked. It would be nice if here were, because then there would be solutions to things in life, but it doesn't always work that way. Everyone likes a good detective story. I went through my Hammett phase in college. I think the attraction is, in life our mysteries aren't exciting. You know They're just intractable and depressing and enervating. Like, why do we always hurt the ones we love. Where does the money go.. In a detective story, at least the universe makes sense. It was him. He did it. The natural order is disturbed, but the beauty of it is that it's restored again.
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A human being is part of a whole, called by us the 'Universe,' a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.
prison circles nature time beauty rest human kind living compassion thoughts consciousness feelings experiences space personal desires affection creatures free delusion part embrace
When the waves are round me breaking, As I pace the deck alone, And my eye in vain is seekingSome green leaf to rest upon; What would not I give to wanderWhere my old companions dwell?Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Isle of Beauty, fare thee well!
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The beauty of the world has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.
beauty world heart laughter cutting anguish
Did is a word of achievement Won't is a word of defeat Might is a word of bereavement Can't is a word of defeat Ought is a word of duty Try is a word each hour Will is a word of beauty Can is a word of power.
duty power beauty achievement bereavement word defeat
Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, thereare still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waitingto be born.
dreams age beauty possibilities matter born
Among the virtues and vices that make up the British character, we have one vice, at least, that Americans ought to view with sympathy. For they appear to be the only people who share it with us. I mean our worship of the antique. I do not refer to beauty or even historical association. I refer to age, to a quantity of years.
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People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.
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Respect human talent, respond to genius, recognize reality, admire truth and beauty, realize the meaning of the rare flower Reason.
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True beauty dwells in deep retreats, Whose veil is unremoved Till heart with heart in concord beats, And the lover is beloved.
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What is this thought or thing Which I call beauty? Is it thought or thing? Is it a thought accepted for a thing? Or both? Or neither a pretext? A word?
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The beauty of 'spacing' children many years apart lies in the fact that parents have time to learn the mistakes that were made with the older ones which permits them to make exactly the opposite mistakes with the younger ones.
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Solitude, in the sense of being often alone, is essential to any depth of meditation or of character and solitude in the presence of natural beauty and grandeur, is the cradle of thought and aspirations which are not only good for the individual, but which society could ill do without.
solitude beauty society character sense meditation thought good aspirations individual depth natural presence essential
Look to this day, For it is life, the very life of life. In its brief course lie all the verities and realities of your existencethe bliss of growth, the glory of action, the splendor of beauty. For yesterday is but a dreamAnd tomorrow is only a vision, But today well lived makesevery yesterday a dream of happinessand every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well, therefore to this day, such is the salutation of the dawn.
vision growth life glory action beauty dream today dawn day tomorrow bliss lie hope yesterday
What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god: the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, wh
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I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the truth of imagination. What the imagination seizes as beauty must be truth whether it existed before or not.
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I cannot believe that the inscrutable universe turns on an axis of suffering surely the strange beauty of the world must somewhere rest on pure joy
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