Quotes About Contrast

Love would be two animals: a hummingbird and a snake. Both are perfectly untrainable.

In one of his most popular essays, "The Colloid and the Crystal," the nature writer Joseph Wood Krutch wrote about these opposing forces in nature. "Order and obedience are the primary characteristics of that which is not alive," he wrote. "Life is rebellious and anarchical.

know, it's kinda nice to have some people in here who died of natural causes. Every once in a while, an inexplicable murder can brighten your day. But enough is enough, you know what I mean?

You only need the light when it is burning low Only miss the sun when it starts to snow.   How

You only need the light when it is burning low Only miss the sun when it starts to snow.

O Danúbio, pensei, era o Danúbio mas não era azul, era amarelo, a cidade toda era amarela, os telhados, o asfalto, os parques, engraçado isso, uma cidade amarela, eu pensava que Budapeste fosse cinzenta, mas Budapeste era amarela.

Com taquicardia, respiro fundo, olho ao redor, só não me lembro mais por que eu tanto queria atravessar a rua. Este lado é como um espelho do outro, com os mesmos pedestres aflitos para atravessar de volta, os mesmos minúsculos botecos com idênticas bundas grandes do lado de fora, além de uma banca de jornal igual a todas, onde vejo exposta uma primeira página tenebrosa.

Houve um tempo em que, se tivesse de optar entre duas cegueiras, escolheria ser cego ao esplendor do mar, às montanhas, ao pôr-do-sol do Rio de Janeiro, para ter olhos de ler o que há de belo, em letras negras sobre fundo branco.

On Twitter we get excited if someone follows us. In real life we get really scared and run away.

It is our destiny to be born beautiful into an ugly age.

I never use colors. Black and white are all I need. Most of my clothes are black and white, too. I suppose the most flamboyant color in my wardrobe is dark brown.

...there does a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining on the night...

Light of the moon Moves west, flowers' shadows Creep eastward.

Moonlight is sculpture: sunlight is painting.

America is an enormous frosted cupcake in the middle of millions of starving people.

Be a vintage typewriter in a world full of laptops.

A great deal has been written and said and sung in praise of green trees. And yet there are comparatively few green trees that are good to eat. Asparagus is probably the best of them, though celery is by no means to be despised.

I am broccoli, and I look like a tree. I am a walnut, and I look like a brain. I am a mushroom, and I hate this game.

Tonight's forecast: dark. Continued mostly dark tonight, turning to widely scattered light in the morning.

February thought on the human condition: Now is when we complain if the house isn't as warm as it was in the summer, when we complained about the heat.

Winter is on my head, and eternal spring is in my heart.

Some writers have beautiful poetry inside that explodes from the pen into prose. Others hold their inner prose until it implodes to poetry.

Satire is merely pointing out that roses have thorns — and that we can't avoid pricks.

How beautiful and ugly is this world, producer of patchwork hearts — torn by civilized days, mended in nature and solitude — some weaker at the seams than others.