Quotes About Wabi-sabi

There's a beauty to imperfection. This is the essence of the Japanese principle of wabi-sabi. Wabi-sabi values character and uniqueness over a shiny facade.

Leonard Koren, author of a book on wabi-sabi, gives this advice: Pare down to the essence, but don't remove the poetry. Keep things clean and unencumbered but don't sterilize.

There's a beauty to imperfection. This is the essence of the Japanese principle of wabi-sabi. Wabi-sabi values character and uniqueness over a shiny facade. It teaches that cracks and scratches in things should be embraced. It's also about simplicity. You strip things down and then use what you have.

There's a beauty to imperfection. This is the essence of the Japanese principle of wabi-sabi. Wabi-sabi values character and uniqueness over a shiny facade. It teaches that cracks and scratches in things should be embraced. It's also about simplicity. You strip things down and then use what you have.

There's a beauty to imperfection. This is the essence of the Japanese principle of wabi-sabi.

The notion is called wabi-sabi life, like the cherry blossom, it is beautiful because of its impermanence, not in spite of it, more exquisite for the inevitability of loss.

Japanese for simplicity and taking pleasure in imperfections

the concept of wabi sabi30—or the ability to find beauty in imperfection. If a vase is accidentally broken, for example, they don't throw the pieces away or try to patch it up to hide the accident. Instead, they take golden glue and painstakingly reassemble the vessel, so its unique flaws make the piece more beautiful.

Yet for better or worse we love things that bear the marks of grime, soot, and weather, and we love the colors and the sheen that call to mind the past that made them.

There is a preppy wabi-sabi to soft, faded khakis and cotton shirts, but it's not nice to be surrounded by things that are worn out or stained or used up.

Death is treated like a taboo in our culture, and all medical efforts are directed toward fighting this law of nature. But perhaps there is a beautiful side of death. [...] Perhaps death is God's wabi-sabi.

There is also the memory of the hut in the mind of the traveler-- and in the mind of the reader reading this description. Wabi-sabi, in its purest, most idealised form, is precisely about these delicate traces, this faint evidence, at the border of nothingness.

There is a Japanese word for things made more beautiful by use, that bear the evidence of their own making, or the individuating marks of time's passage: a kind of beauty not immune to time but embedded in it.

The notion is called wabi-sabi life, like the cherry blossom, it is beautiful because of its impermanence, not in spite of it, more exquisite for the inevitability of loss.