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#wing

Read through the most famous quotes by topic #wing




What young people didn’t know, she thought, lying down beside this man, his hand on her shoulder, her arm; oh, what young people did not know. They did not know that lumpy, aged, and wrinkled bodies were as needy as their own young, firm ones, that love was not to be tossed away carelessly, as if it were a tart on a platter with others that got passed around again. No, if love was available, one chose it, or didn’t choose it. And if her platter had been full with the goodness of Henry and she had found it burdensome, had flicked it off crumbs at a time, it was because she had not known what one should know: that day after day was unconsciously squandered. And so, if this man next to her now was not a man she would have chosen before this time, what did it matter: He most likely wouldn’t have chosen her either. But here they were, and Olive pictured two slices of Swiss cheese pressed together, such holes they brought to this union—what pieces life took out of you. Her eyes were closed, and throughout her tired self swept waves of gratitude—and regret. She pictured the sunny room, the sun-washed wall, the bayberry outside. It baffled her, the world. She did not want to leave it yet.


Elizabeth Strout


#marriage #age

I want the concentration and the romance, and the worlds all glued together, fused, glowing: have no time to waste any more on prose.


Virginia Woolf


#concentration #fused #glowing #glued #i

When Van Gogh was a young man in his early twenties, he was in London studying to be a clergyman. He had no thought of being an artist at all. he sat in his cheap little room writing a letter to his younger brother in Holland, whom he loved very much. He looked out his window at a watery twilight, a thin lampost, a star, and he said in his letter something like this: "it is so beautiful I must show you how it looks." And then on his cheap ruled note paper, he made the most beautiful, tender, little drawing of it. When I read this letter of Van Gogh's it comforted me very much and seemed to throw a clear light on the whole road of Art. Before, I thought that to produce a work of painting or literature, you scowled and thought long and ponderously and weighed everything solemnly and learned everything that all artists had ever done aforetime, and what their influences and schools were, and you were extremely careful about *design* and *balance* and getting *interesting planes* into your painting, and avoided, with the most astringent severity, showing the faintest *acedemical* tendency, and were strictly modern. And so on and so on. But the moment I read Van Gogh's letter I knew what art was, and the creative impulse. It is a feeling of love and enthusiasm for something, and in a direct, simple, passionate and true way, you try to show this beauty in things to others, by drawing it. And Van Gogh's little drawing on the cheap note paper was a work of art because he loved the sky and the frail lamppost against it so seriously that he made the drawing with the most exquisite conscientiousness and care.


Brenda Ueland


#creative-impulse #drawing #simplicity #van-gogh #art

But I know newspapers. They have the first amendment and they can tell any lie knowing it's a lie and they're protected if the person's famous or it's a company.


Steve Wozniak


#amendment #any #company #first #first amendment

All I wanted was my art and the chance to be the creator of my own world, my own reality.


Charlotte Eriksson


#artist #growing-up #life #life-and-living #reality

Not to grow up properly is to retain our 'caterpillar' quality from childhood (where it is a virtue) into adulthood (where it becomes a vice). In childhood our credulity serves us well. It helps us to pack, with extraordinary rapidity, our skulls full of the wisdom of our parents and our ancestors. But if we don't grow out of it in the fullness of time, our caterpillar nature makes us a sitting target for astrologers, mediums, gurus, evangelists and quacks. The genius of the human child, mental caterpillar extraordinary, is for soaking up information and ideas, not for criticizing them. If critical faculties later grow it will be in spite of, not because of, the inclinations of childhood. The blotting paper of the child's brain is the unpromising seedbed, the base upon which later the sceptical attitude, like a struggling mustard plant, may possibly grow. We need to replace the automatic credulity of childhood with the constructive scepticism of adult science.


Richard Dawkins


#childhood #growing-up #maturity #reason #attitude

It's so much easier to go to the Sony movie complex when you're disabled. You take a great elevator. You get your own little private viewing area. I love it.


Michael Zaslow


#complex #disabled #easier #elevator #get

I think humans might be like butterflies; people die every day without many other people knowing about them, seeing their colors, hearing their stories... and when humans are broken, they're like broken butterfly wings; suddenly there are so many beauties that are seen in different ways, so many thoughts and visions and possibilities that form, which couldn't form when the person wasn't broken! So it is not a very sad thing to be broken, after all! It's during the times of being broken, that you have all the opportunities to become things unforgettable! Just like the broken butterfly wing that I found, which has given me so many thoughts, in so many ways, has shown me so many words, and imaginations! But butterflies need to know, that it doesn't matter at all if the whole world saw their colors or not! But what matters is that they flew, they glided, they hovered, they saw, they felt, and they knew! And they loved the ones whom they flew with! And that is an existence worthwhile!


C. JoyBell C.


#broken-wings #butterflies #butterfly-wings #human #humanity

After a time,my hand had become as skilled as my eyes.So if I was drawing a very fine tree , it folt as if my hand was moving without me directly it.As I wathced the pencil race across the page,I would look on it in amazement ,as if the drawing were the proof of another presence , as if someone else had taken up residence in my body.As I marvelled at his work aspiring to beome his equal , another part of my brain was busy inspecting the curves of the branches , the placement of mountains , the composition as a whole , reflecting that I had created this scene on a blank piece of paper.My mind was at the tip of my pen , acting before I could think ; at the same time it could survey what I had already done.This second line of perception , this ability to analyse my progress , was the pleasure this small artist felt when he looked at the discovery of his courage and freedom.To step outside myslef , to know the second pesron who had taken up residence inside me , was to retrace the dividing line that appeared as my pencil slipped across the paper.like a boy sledding in the snow. pg.135


Orhan Pamuk


#business

What I've found about it is that there are some folks you can talk to until you're blue in the face--they're never going to get it and they're never going to change. But every once in a while, you'll run into someone who is eager to listen, eager to learn, and willing to try new things. Those are the people we need to reach. We have a responsibility as parents, older people, teachers, people in the neighborhood to recognize that.


Tyler Perry


#growing-up #maturity #mentor #mentoring #mentors






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