It may be said that modern Europe with teachers who inform it that its realist instincts are beautiful, acts ill and honors what is ill.
The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world.
It had rained on some vivid green ferns in Maine and it was quite beautiful. I was moving the camera slightly and studying the ground glass. Looking at those 20 square inches, trying to find out just what were the right elements to include.
What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music.
By 1968, I had lived 10 years in Michigan. Gradually, I had come to love watching Detroit’s baseball club in its small, beautiful, antiquated Tiger Stadium – a baseball park as fine as Fenway Park or Wrigley Field, though it never got the adulatory press.
Nothing is beautiful, only man: on this piece of naivete rests all aesthetics, it is the first truth of aesthetics. Let us immediately add its second: nothing is ugly but degenerate man – the domain of aesthetic judgment is therewith defined.
The first decade of the twentieth century was not a great time to be born black and poor and female in St. Louis, Missouri, but Vivian Baxter was born black and poor, to black and poor parents. Later she would grow up and be called beautiful. As a grown woman she would be known as the butter-colored lady with the blowback hair.
Poetry and beauty are always making peace. When you read something beautiful you find coexistence; it breaks walls down.
That’s the way I do things when I want to celebrate, I always plant a tree. And so I got an indigenous tree, called Nandi flame, it has this beautiful red flowers. When it is in flower it is like it is in flame.
Fifteen years ago, while I was temporarily chairing meetings of pro-life leaders, I pleaded with the angry males to say no to interviews, and instead let beautiful pro-life women become the face for the movement.