A Quote by Auguste Rodin

The delicate droop of the petals standing out in relief, is like the eyelid of a child. — © Auguste Rodin
The delicate droop of the petals standing out in relief, is like the eyelid of a child.
The delicate thought, that cannot find expression, For ruder speech too fair, That, like thy petals, trembles in possession, And scatters on the air.
In an age where the lowered eyelid is just a sign of fatigue, the delicate game of love is pining away. Freud and flirtation are poor companions.
'Delicate.' I say it all the time when I eat food; when I'm trying to sound smart. I'm like: 'Oh, it's really delicate.' And my friends - they've caught on. They know what I'm doing. Like, 'why do you keep saying it's delicate?' I'm just trying to sound like a food critic.
I myself am quite absorbed by the delicate yellow, delicate soft green, delicate violet of a ploughed and weeded piece of soil.
The word `ecstasy` is beautiful; it simply means `standing out.` Out of what? Standing out of your ego, your personality, your mind; getting out of the whole structure in which you have lived - not only lived but with which you have become identified. Standing out of all this, just a pure witness, a watcher on the hills - and everything is left deep down in the valley.
There is no end to the petals of the inner rose. Continue to unfold set after set of petals until you have completed your meditation session.
Relief is a wonderful emotion, highly underrated. In fact, I prefer it to elation or joy. Relief lets the air out of the Tire of Pain.
Stop calling your akri your daddy. It makes my wings droop. (Xirena) My akri is my daddy. He said so and it is so, so your wings can droop all they want, ‘cause it won’t change anything! (Simi)
I want you to learn the lesson of the lotus. This flower springs forth from muddy waters. It raises its delicate petals to the sun and perfumes the world while, at the same time, its roots cling to the elemental muck, the very essence of the mortal experience. Without that soil, the flower would wither and die.
Eyes that droop like summer flowers.
I hate when a show has an age limit. Like a little tiny child is standing outside, like, 'Hey, I wanted to go but I couldn't.' That sucks.
How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing? How can a child, when fears annoy, But droop his tender wing, And forget his youthful spring?
Man is incomprehensible without Nature and Nature is incomprehensible apart from man. For the delicate loveliness of the flower is as much in the human eye as in its own fragile petals and in the splendor of the heavens as much in the imagination that kindles at the touch of their glory as in the shining of countless worlds.
No pains must be spared to wipe out all feeling of diffidence, embarrassment, or shame on the part of those receiving relief; [we] must be one great family of equals. The spiritual welfare of those on relief must receive especial care and be earnestly and prayerfully fostered. A system which gives relief for work or service will go far to reaching these ends.
When I was a child, I spoke like a child. When I was an adult, I no longer spoke like a child. When I became old and wise, I spoke again like a child. I wish I had spoken all my life like a child.
Relief. Excitement and relief. Relief is definitely the key word.
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