Quotes About Appreciation

the good reader is one who has imagination, memory, a dictionary, and some artistic sense–-

We are liable to miss the best of life if we do not know how to tingle, if we do not learn to hoist ourselves just a little higher than we generally are in order to sample the rarest and ripest fruit of art which human thought has to offer.

You are the only person I can talk with about the shade of a cloud, about the song of a thought...

In order to enjoy life, we should not enjoy it too much.

I cannot separate the aesthetic pleasure of seeing a butterfly and the scientific pleasure of knowing what it is.

Did he like elms? Did he know Joyce's poem about the two washerwomen? He did, indeed. Did he like it? He did. In fact he was beginning to like very much arbors and ardors and Adas

The sense of literary creation is to portray ordinary objects as they will be reflected in the kindly mirrors of future times; to find in the objects around us the fragrant tenderness that only posterity will discern and appreciate in far-off times when every trifle of our plain everyday life will become exquisite and festive in its own right: the times when a man who might put on the most ordinary jacket of today will be dressed up for an elegant masquerade.

The evening is the time to praise the day

The subject of teaching Shakespeare at college level having been introduced: "First of all, dismiss ideas, and social background, and train the freshman to shiver, to get drunk on the poetry of Hamlet or Lear, to read with his spine and not with his skull." Kinbote: "You appreciate particularly the purple passages?" Shade: "Yes, my dear Charles, I roll upon them as a grateful mongrel on a spot of turf fouled by a Great Dane.

In reading, one should notice and fondle details.

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.

Yo pienso que en esto radica el sentido de la creación literaria: en la descripción de objetos ordinarios tal y como quedarán reflejados en los espejos amables de los tiempos futuros; en encontrar en los objetos que nos rodean la ternura fragante que sólo la posteridad podrá discernir y apreciar en los lejanos tiempos venideros en los que cada minucia de nuestra aburrida vida cotidiana se convertirá en algo exquisito y festivo por derecho propio

Everything in the world is beautiful, but Man only recognizes beauty if he sees it either seldom or from afar.…

Vagyst?-geriausias komplimentas,kok? galima pasakyti daiktui.

When we read a book for the first time the very process of laboriously moving our eyes from left to right, line after line, page after page, this complicated physical work upon the book, the very process of learning in terms of space and time what the book is about, this stands between us and artistic appreciation.

When you read Turgenev, you know you are reading Turgenev. When you read Tolstoy, you read just because you cannot stop.

Couleur locale has been responsible for many hasty appreciations, and local color is not a fast color.

The Russian reader in old cultured Russia was certainly proud of Pushkin and of Gogol, but he was just as proud of Shakespeare or Dante, of Baudelaire or of Edgar Allan Poe, of Flaubert or of Homer, and this was the Russian reader's strength. I have a certain personal interest in the question, for if my fathers had not been good readers, I would hardly be here today, speaking of these matters in this tongue.

Such hearts, such brains, would be unable to comprehend that one's attachment to a masterpiece may be utterly overwhelming.

individuals seek recognition of their value, not as "labor," "personnel," or "human resources" but as human beings who are treated with full respect and dignity and appreciated for their individual worth regardless of hierarchical level.

You never miss the water till the well runs dry. Those who ought to know, tell me that you never really appreciate Moscow until you get back again to the land of the bread lines, unemployment, Jim Crow cars and crooked politicians, brutal bankers and overbearing police, three per cent beer and the Scottsboro case.

Thank you for bringing me home.

I may be an arrogant asshole with more blessing than I'll ever deserve, but that doesn't mean I don't have enough self-awareness to recognize something extraordinary. Especially when I'm looking right at it.

Some people are worth all the effort it takes to love them, or to show them that they're worth loving.