#poetic

A garden must combine the poetic and he mysterious with a feeling of serenity and joy. ↗

— Luis Barragan

#combine #feeling #garden #joy #must

If you haven't had at least a slight poetic crack in the heart, you have been cheated by nature. ↗

— Phyllis Battelle

#cheated #crack #had #haven #heart

If you are of the opinion that the contemplation of suicide is sufficient evidence of a poetic nature, do not forget that actions speak louder than words. ↗

— Fran Lebowitz

#actions speak #contemplation #evidence #forget #louder

I was wild and tame and pulled into shreds and crushed into being all at once. ↗

— Maggie Stiefvater

#poetic #wild #beauty

Sometimes I know the meaning of a word but am tired of it and feel the need for an unfamiliar, especially precise or poetic term, perhaps one with a nuance that flatters my readership's exquisite sensitivity. ↗

— William Safire

#especially #exquisite #feel #flatters #i

Musicals are, by nature, theatrical, meaning poetic, meaning having to move the audience's imagination and create a suspension of disbelief, by which I mean there's no fourth wall. ↗

— Stephen Sondheim

#create #disbelief #fourth #having #i

Like, I took no poetic license with 'Schindler's List' because that was historical, factual documents. ↗

— Steven Spielberg

#documents #factual #historical #i #license

As to London we must console ourselves with the thought that if life outside is less poetic than it was in the days of old, inwardly its poetry is much deeper. ↗

— Goldwin Smith

#days #deeper #inwardly #less #life

Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other... I know I've spent each life before this one searching for you. Not someone like you but you, for your soul and mine must always come together. ↗

— Nicholas Sparks

#inspirational #poetic #romantic #beauty

When I call his name, it’s a sound almost entirely out of my control. It soars over the crowd and hits him. Even from where I’m standing, I can tell that he recognized my voice. Hastily he unwinds himself from the girl, stands to attention like an animal sensing danger. And I try to call him again, but that word, that name, was all I had the energy for. I barely have the strength left to stand. I wait helplessly for him to find the sound, and when he does, when his heterochromatic eyes meet mine, my mouth forms the word again, but just barely. The girl at his side disappears. The crowd blurs into senseless shapes and colors. I can’t feel my heart or my body or the heat of the flames. I can only see his face—his bewildered, beautifully familiar face. ↗

— Lauren DeStefano

#reunion #beauty