A Quote by Elliott Erwitt

I like things that have to do with what is real, elegant, well presented and without excessive style. In other words, just fine observation. — © Elliott Erwitt
I like things that have to do with what is real, elegant, well presented and without excessive style. In other words, just fine observation.
My [singing] style really has no style, because I try to sing each number differently. I’ve always believed that if style takes precedent over the words and music, the audience get’s cheated. It’s like when people see a fine play or movie. They imagine themselves in the leading role. I want them to imagine that they’re singing - not just listening to someone else.
Oddly enough, I suppose, I don't give much thought to my style, and I don't attempt to be consistent - except within a story. You ask if I struggled to find my style. It seems to me that style - in other words, a way of thinking and doing things - is innate. You can try to will it to be different, but it's like a signature - you can't change its fundamental nature.
Grace is in a great measure a natural gift; elegance implies cultivation; or something of more artificial character. A rustic, uneducated girl may be graceful, but an elegant woman must be accomplished and well trained. It is the same with things as with persons; we talk of a graceful tree, but of an elegant house or other building. Animals may be graceful, but they cannot be elegant. The movements of a kitten or a young fawn are full of grace; but to call them "elegant" animals would be absurd.
I connect fashion to other peoples' elegance, but not my own. I don't think I've ever felt elegant. I've felt appropriate, but never elegant, and I wonder what that must be like. I like it when other people are elegant - I prefer it - but I can't do it myself. I honestly think it's some form of autistic disorder.
Like a fine flower, beautiful to look at but without scent, fine words are fruitless in a man who does not act in accordance with them.
My songs are based on my keen observation. I have picked these situations from my surrounding and have presented a real situation about the youth and their mindset.
A man's knowledge may be said to be mature, in other words, when it has reached the most complete state of perfection to which he, as an individual, is capable of bringing it, when an exact correspondence is established between the whole of his abstract ideas and the things he has actually perceived for himself. His will mean that each of his abstract ideas rests, directly or indirectly, upon a basis of observation, which alone endows it with any real value; and also that he is able to place every observation he makes under the right abstract idea which belongs to it.
Words have divided man from woman, one from another, this from that, until only sages know how to put things together. Without words, without even understanding, lovers find each other. The moment of finding is always a surprise, like meeting an old friend never before known.
To utter pleasant words without practicing them, is like a fine flower without fragrance.
I don't like honors. ... I've already got the prize: the prize is the pleasure of finding the thing out, the kick in the discovery, the observation that other people use it. Those are the real things.
God is really only another artist. He invented the giraffe, the elephant and the cat. He has no real style, He just goes on trying other things.
For me, style is essentially doing things well. If you want to be outrageous, be outrageous with style. If you want to be restrained, be restrained with style. One can't specifically define style. It's like the perfume to a flower. It's a quality you can't analyze.
Go another step. Try to live one entire day without words at all. Do it not as a law, but as an experiment. Note your feelings of helplessness and excessive dependence upon words to communicate. Try to find new ways to relate to tohers that are not dependent upon words. Enjoy, savor the day. Learn from it.
They talked so, with secret hearts, without needing words, talking of other things... They could have suddenly continued their confessions aloud, without ceasing to understand each other.
I think that's something that always enticed me about the '40s - back then, the glamour and the style - you couldn't really make it up. You just were or you weren't. You either fit in that world or you fit in the other. Things were very cut and dry. Things were simple. There wasn't a whole lot of excess or flash to be flashy; it was real flash, and real excitement.
If the world does well, gold will be fine. If the world doesn't do well, gold will also do fine... but a lot of other things could collapse.
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