Quotes About Fragility

How is it possible for the beauty that was there only minutes before to vanish so quickly?

And keep in mind that if you throw the KB into anything harder than sand you could break the handle; cast iron is hard but brittle.

We awaken this bodhichitta, this tenderness for life, when we can no longer shield ourselves from the vulnerability of our condition, from the basic fragility of existence. In the words of the sixteenth Gyalwa Karmapa, "You take it all in. You let the pain of the world touch your heart and you turn it into compassion." It is said that in difficult times, it is only bodhichitta that heals.

When things are shaky and nothing is working, we might realize that we are on the verge of something. We might realize that this is a very vulnerable and tender place, and that tenderness can go either way. We can shut down and feel resentful or we can touch in on that throbbing quality. There is definitely something tender and throbbing about groundlessness.

Pero bajo la dureza de esta armadura, se oculta la terneza de una genuina tristeza

People seem to fight about things very unsuitable for fighting. They make a frightful noise in support of very quiet things. They knock each other about in the name of very fragile things.

somewhere under the rage, there's something human. barely.

Glass is the most magical of all materials. It transmits light in a special way.

Everything is a miracle. It is a miracle that one does not dissolve in one's bath like a lump of sugar.

We live in constant danger of coming apart. The mystery of why we do not always come apart is the animating tension of all art.

The toughness I was learning was not a martyred doggedness, a dumb heroism, but the art of accommodation. I thought: to be tough is to be fragile; to be tender is to be truly fierce.

Little fly, thy summer's play My thoughtless hand has brushed away. Am not I a fly like thee? Or art not thou a man like me? For I dance and drink and sing, Till some blind hand shall brush my wing!

Plexi, plexi, bend don't shatter. Once you're broken, shape won't matter.

It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked looking-glass of a servant.

You took a pretty picture and you smashed it into bits, sank me into blackness and you sealed it with a kiss.

More than any other beauty (though it is true of all beauty except in art) passion seems to me to have the seeds of its own destruction in it.

Unfortunately, moral beauty in art - like physical beauty in a person - is extremely perishable.

A picture lives by companionship. It dies by the same token. It is therefore risky to send it out into the world. How often it must be impaired by the eyes of the unfeeling.

We are so small; and what must one hold on to when one no longer recognizes one's own hands, nor one's step, nor even the small dose of everyday despair.

It was frightening to realize how fast things could go wrong.

I think that's how life works. Just when you think you have it all set up and perfectly arranged, someone sneezes, or God blows on it, and all the building blocks come tumbling down.

She was so full of holes now, she was like a Swiss cheese.

to speak, felt weak, and fell in front of her. She got

The body is soft, beautiful, vulnerable. It's easy to threaten it. It's easy to harm it. It takes next to nothing to cause pain, to draw blood, to break bones. Takes next to nothing to blast a body to bits. It's much harder to protect it, she says, and much more important.