Quotes About Contrast

Tú eres de los que se tiran al vacío y está lleno. Me interesó esa imagen. El vacío lleno y el lleno vacío. Tenía una voz dura, algo ronca, pero no desagradable. Sentí el latigazo de la culpa en la pierna y apreté las muletas. Cómo duelen las palabras.

The sky is turning from black to gray and I stop to remember this melancholy moment for my acting. I huddle on a bench in my big thrift-store overcoat and my painful hair, watching my breath make clouds and thinking Holden Caulfield-y thoughts, like how come you never see any baby pigeons? This is what those people on black-and-white French postcards must feel like. I find myself craving a cup of coffee and a cigarette despite the fact that I neither drink coffee nor smoke.

que le même homme peut être très énergétique en même temps que doux

All colors are the friends of their neighbors and the lovers of their opposites.

Words are not the things they name. Saussere says they take distinctive meaning by contrast with other words. A square is a square because it's not a triangle, not a circle.

La mémoire est aussi paresseuse qu'hypocrite, elle ne retient que les meilleurs et les pires souvenirs, les temps forts, jamais la mesure du quotidien, qu'elle efface.

How beautifully Plato put it. Whenever you want to talk about people, it's best to take a bird's-eye view and see everything all at once—of gatherings, armies, farms, weddings and divorces, births and deaths, noisy courtrooms or silent spaces, every foreign people, holidays, memorials, markets—all blended together and arranged in a pairing of opposites.

U sjeni stabala, Liesel je promatrala dje?aka. Kako li su se stvari promijenile: od kradljivca vo?a do davatelja kruha. Njegova plava kosa, iako je tamnila, bila je poput svije?e. ?ula je kako mu kruli u želucu - a davao je ljudima kruh. Je li to bila Njema?ka? Je li to bila nacisti?ka Njema?ka?

I believe in the resistance as I believe there can be no light without shadow; or rather, no shadow unless there is also light.

The moon is a stone and the sky is full of deadly hardware, but oh God, how beautiful anyway.

Extreme good, extreme evil: the abilities required are similar.

Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance.

I would rather dance as a ballerina, though faultily, than as a flawless clown.

But reality has too much darkness in it. Too many crows

I didn't want him to become gray and multi-dimensional and complicated like everyone else. Was every Heathcliff a Linton in disguise?

Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon...

Women, and what went on under their collars. Hotness and coldness, coming and going in the strange musky flowery variable-weather country inside their clothes -- mysterious, important, uncontrollable. That was his father's take on things. But men's body temperatures were never dealt with; they were never even mentioned....

My life had a tendency to spread, get flabby, to scroll and festoon like the frame of a baroque mirror, which came from following the line of least resistance. I wanted my death, by contrast, to be neat and simple, understated, even a little severe, like a Quaker church or the basic black dress with a single strand of pearls...

Here is a handful of shadow I have brought back to you: this decay, this hope, this mouth- ful of dirt, this poetry.

Once in a while, though, he went on binges. He would sneak into bookstores or libraries, lurk around the racks where the little magazines were kept; sometimes he'd buy one. Dead poets were his business, living ones his vice. Much of the stuff he read was crap and he knew it; still, it gave him an odd lift. Then there would be the occasional real poem, and he would catch his breath. Nothing else could drop him through space like that, then catch him; nothing else could peel him open.

Constance did not have a bun. She didn't need one. She more or less was a bun: neat and contained, and then so tumultuous when unleashed.

I beliebe in the resistance as I believe there can be no light without shadow; or rather, no shadow unless there is also light.

Why do you want to talk about ugly things?" she said. Her voice was silvery, like a music box. She waved one hand in the air to dry the nails. "We should think only beautiful things, as much as we can. There is so much beautiful in the world if you look around. You are looking only at the dirt under your feet, Jimmy. It's not good for you.

There was always that shadowy twin, thin when i was fat, fat when i was thin, myself in silvery narrative...