Quotes About Contrast

The early train from the north is hurled at her like a missile. We draw a curtain as we pass. Blank expectant faces stare at us as we rattle and flash through stations. Men clutch their newspapers a little tighter, as our wind sweeps them, envisaging death. But we roar on. We are about to explode in the flanks of the city like a shell in the side of some ponderous, maternal, majestic animal.

They have been written in the red light of emotion and not in the white light of truth.

People were beginning to compare her to poplar trees, early dawn, hyacinths, fawns, running water, and garden lilies, and it made her life a burden to her, for she so much preferred being left alone to do what she liked in the country, but they would compare her to lilies, and she had to go to parties, and London was so dreary compared with being alone in the country with her father and the dogs.

He saw a child dipping a can into a bright-green stream and asked if they drank that water. Yes, and washed in it too, for the landlord only allowed water to be turned on twice a week. Such sights were the more surprising, because one might come upon them in the most sedate and civilised quarters of London—"the most aristocratic parishes have their share." Behind Miss Barrett's bedroom, for instance, was one of the worst slums in London.

Dünyan?n öylesine çabuk yitip gidecek güzelliÄŸinin iki ucu vard?r, biri kahkaha diÄŸeri kederdir ve kalbi paramparça ederler.

The sound of the trumpets died away and Orlando stood stark naked. No human being, since the world began, has ever looked more ravishing. His form combined in one the strength of a man and a woman's grace.

light and evanescent but held together by bolts of iron

For the philosopher is right who says that nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy;

O verde na natureza é uma coisa, o verde na literatura é outra. A natureza e as letras parecem ter uma antipatia visceral; junte as duas, e se estraçalham mutuamente.

Uno de ellos cantaba bajo la ventana del dormitorio; otro posado en la rama mas alta de las lilas; un tercero sobre el reborde del muro. Todos cantaban con una voz estridente, apasionada, vehemente, que parecía que iba a hacerles estallar el corazón, sin cuidarse de la áspera disonancia producida con el canto del pájaro vecino.

Sie fühlte sich sehr jung; gleichzeitig unaussprechlich betagt. Sie schnitt wie ein Messer durch alles; war gleichzeitig außerhalb und sah zu. Sie hatte eine nicht endende Empfindung, während sie die Droschken beobachtete, draußen zu sein, draußen, weit draußen auf See, und allein; sie hatte immer das Gefühl, es sei sehr, sehr gefährlich, auch nur einen Tag zu leben.

It's a pity one can't imagine what one can't compare to anything. Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

Remembrance, like Rembrandt, is dark but festive.

I am trying to describe these things not to relive them in my present boundless misery, but to sort out the portion of hell and the portion of heaven in that strange, awful, maddening world- nymphet love. (135)

We all admire the spangled acrobat with classic grace meticulously walking his tight rope in the talcum light; but how much rarer art there is in the sagging rope expert wearing scarecrow clothes and impersonating a grotesque drunk! I should know.

When stripped and shiny in the mist of the bath house, his bold virilia contrasted harshly with his girlish grace. He was a regular faunlet.

Light in comparison with darkness is a void.

the awfulness of love and violets

Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

You forget, my good man, that what the artist perceives is, primarily, the difference between things. It is the vulgar who note their resemblance.

Yo me empecinaba en mi paraíso escogido: Un paraíso cuyos cielos tenían el color de las llamas infernales, pero con todo un paraiso

The elms and the poplars were turning their ruffled backs to a sudden onslaught of wind, and a black thunderhead loomed above Ramsdale's white church tower when I looked around me for the last time.

We are now ready to tackle Dickens. We are now ready to embrace Dickens. We are now ready to bask in Dickens. In our dealings with Jane Austen we had to make a certain effort in order to join the ladies in the drawing room. In the case of Dickens we remain at table with our tawny port.

The cup-sized breasts of that twenty-four year old impatient beauty seemed a dozen years younger than she, with those pale squinty nipples and firm form.