Quotes About Ugliness

En çirkin merhamet, hedefini ?a??rand?r.

It was bigger than he remembered, and much uglier. Strange, how when he lived there he had believed everything the Goggle-screens told him about the city's elegant lines, its perfect beauty. Now he saw that it was ugly; no better than any other town, just bigger; a stormfront of smoke and belching chimneys, a wave of darkness rolling towards the mountains with the white villas of High London surfing on its crest like some delicate ship. It didn't look like home.

L.A. is like an oil rig. It's not pretty. It's awful. The air is bad, the view is bad, the people are bad.

SvÄ›t není pÃ…â"¢íÅ¡erný, ale žije na nÄ›m spousta pÃ…â"¢íÅ¡erných lidí.

Kimse bana dünyan?n çirkin yüzünü görmeyi ögretmemiÅŸti ve ben her ÅŸeyi aptal gibi görüyor, hiçbir ÅŸeyi anlam?yordum.

I hadn't expected much from the place, but I hadn't realized how ugly it would be, either. We

Nations, like men, are wary of truth, for truth is too often not beautiful.

Being is desirable because it is identical with Beauty, and Beauty is loved because it is Being. We ourselves possess Beauty when we are true to our own being; ugliness is in going over to another order; knowing ourselves, we are beautiful; in self-ignorance, we are ugly.

You are sure to marry a woman either beautiful or ugly; If ugly she will be a punishment; if beautiful, you will share her with others. Therefore do not marry.

I was amazed and upset by the looks I got just walking around the studio... It illuminates the ugliness and the beauty that exists within each of us, and that's what this story represents to me.

The secret of ugliness consists not in irregularity, but in being uninteresting.

Orr was one of the homeliest freaks Yossarian had ever encountered, and one of the most attractive.

Gubbinal" That strange flower, the sun, Is just what you say. Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad. That tuft of jungle feathers, That animal eye, Is just what you say. That savage of fire, That seed, Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad.

To those that are not accustomed to it the inner beauty appears as ugliness because humanity in general inclines to the outer and knows nothing of the inner.

La belleza interior es la que se emplea por una necesidad interior imperiosa, renunciando a la belleza habitual. Naturalmente, parece fea al que no está acostumbrado a ella, ya que el ser humano en general tiende a lo externo y no está dispuesto a reconocer la necesidad interior (¡especialmente hoy!)

We haven't accepted we can't really believe that the most characteristic product of our age of scientific miracles is junk, but that is so. And we still think and behave as though we face an unspoiled continent, with thousands of acres of living space for every man. We still sing "America the Beautiful" as though we had not created in it, by strenuous effort, at great expense, and with dauntless self-praise, an unprecedented ugliness.

We cannot know the whole truth, which belongs to God alone, but our task nevertheless is to seek to know what is true. And if we offend gravely enough against what we know to be true, as by failing badly enough to deal affectionately and responsibly with our land and our neighbors, truth will retaliate with ugliness, poverty, and disease.

The universal pervasion of ugliness, hideous landscapes, vile noises, foul language...everything. Unnatural, broken, blasted; the distortion of the dead, whose unburiable bodies sit outside the dug outs all day, all night, the most execrable sights on earth. In poetry we call them the most glorious.

In der mittelalterlichen Kunst entspricht das Aussehen der Menschen ihren Seelen: die Bösen hässlich, die Guten schön. Das neunzehnte Jahrhundert hat uns beigebracht, das sei Unsinn. Aber mit ein bisschen Lebenserfahrung merkt man, es ist gar nicht so falsch.

Hatred seldom reaches its intended target it only reveals the true ugliness of the perpetrator.

Fashion often starts off beautiful and becomes ugly, whereas art starts off ugly sometimes and becomes beautiful.

The South is very beautiful but its beauty makes one sad because the lives that people live here, and have lived here, are so ugly.

It was all wrong, ugly, unhappy and coloured with cynicism, but nothing was tragic, there were no moments that could change anything or anybody. From time to time the emotional lightning flashed and showed a landscape of private misery, and then — we went on dancing.

We Chroniclers do well to be afraid when we approach those parts of our histories (our natures) that deal with evil, the depraved, the benighted. Describing, we become. We even - and I've see it and have shuddered - summon. The most innocent of poets can write of ugliness and forces he has done no more than speculate about - and bring them into his life. I tell you, I've seen it, watched it...