#ugliness

What is beauty or ugliness but a false front that prompts man to make assumptions rather than delving deeper. ↗

— Kristen Callihan

#firelight #kristen-callihan #mankind #ugliness #beauty

This singularity of meaning--I was my face, I was ugliness--though sometimes unbearable, also offered a possible point of escape. It became the launching pad from which to lift off, the one immediately recognizable place to point to when asked what was wrong with my life. Everything led to it, everything receded from it--my face as personal vanishing point. ↗

— Lucy Grealy

#life #pain #singularity #ugliness #ugly

What's the whole point of being pretty on the outside when you’re so ugly on the inside? ↗

— Jess C. Scott

#celebrity-culture #celebrity-gossip #celebutard #dark-humor #fake

I hate slick and pretty things. I prefer mistakes and accidents. Which is why I like things like cuts and bruises - they're like little flowers. I've always said that if you have a name for something, like 'cut' or 'bruise,' people will automatically be disturbed by it. But when you see the same thing in nature, and you don't know what it is, it can be very beautiful. ↗

— David Lynch

#ugliness #beauty

Here is something that the psychologists have so far neglected: the love of ugliness for its own sake, the lust to make the world intolerable. Its habitat is the United States. Out of the melting pot emerges a race which hates beauty as it hates truth. ↗

— H.L. Mencken

#beauty

That's the world out there, little green apples and infectious disease. ↗

— Don DeLillo

#good-and-evil #humanity #infectious-diseases #summary #ugliness

As beautiful as her voice sounded, working its way along the melodies I knew by heart, I knew there was a potential ugliness underneath it. ↗

— Unkown

#beauty

Ah, God, what an ugly city Ilium is! 'Ah, God,' says Bokonon, 'what an ugly city every city is!' Sleet was falling through a motionless blanket of smog. It was early morning. I was riding in the Lincoln sedan of Dr. Asa Breed. I was vaguely ill, still a little drunk from the night before. Dr. Breed was driving. Tracks of a long-abandoned trolley system kept catching the wheels of his car. Breed was a pink old man, very prosperous, beautifully dressed. His manner was civilized, optimistic, capable. I, by contrast, felt bristly, diseased, cynical. I had spent the night with Sandra. My soul seemed as foul as smoke from burning cat fur. ↗

— Kurt Vonnegut

#beauty

Life is very tough and fragile at the same time, it never backs down or surrenders, but will break open to reveal its beauty and ugliness. As a evening primrose that blooms in the flooding moonlight, just before being trampled upon underfoot by the four-legged frost of the night. ↗

— Anthony Liccione

#change #flooding #flower #fragile #frost

However gross a man may be, the minute he expresses a strong and genuine affection, some inner secretion alters his features, animates his gestures, and colors his voice. The stupidest man will often, under the stress of passion, achieve heights of eloquence, in thought if not in language, and seem to move in some luminous sphere. Goriot's voice and gesture had at this moment the power of communication that characterizes the great actor. Are not our finer feelings the poems of the human will? ↗

— Honoré de Balzac

#description #emotion #observation #passion #people