A Quote by Julie Burchill

What sort of sap doesn't know by now that picture-perfect beauty is all done with smoke and mirrors anyway? — © Julie Burchill
What sort of sap doesn't know by now that picture-perfect beauty is all done with smoke and mirrors anyway?
All political power is primarily an illusion. Illusion. Mirrors and blue smoke, beautiful blue smoke rolling over the surface of highly polished mirrors, first a thin veil of blue smoke, then a thick cloud that suddenly dissolves into wisps of blue smoke, the mirrors catching it all, bouncing it back and forth.
In beauty, there's this idea of this perfect picture, and I think, 'How about being present in the now, and a little messy?'
If everyone in the music business were brutally honest about what their intentions were then you could sort things out, but it's all smoke and mirrors.
I know when something is done and when it isn't. There's been times working on movies when they [moviemakers] lock in a release date and so you're stuck to that schedule. But sometimes you're still editing and you feel like you're not really done, but they're sort of releasing the movie anyway - that's kind of depressing.
I want to be a female artist who is honest. I want to encourage other girls to be honest with who they are and not try to be picture perfect, because it's a woman's imperfections that make her perfect anyway.
It took a long while for me to know that I'm beautiful. I remember going through this phase when I was younger of wanting to pass by mirrors and not look at them. That was so ridiculous. I've learned now that beauty starts from within.
I get this weird, existential crisis when I'm looking through Instagram - and then I'll realize we work in entertainment. We know all the smoke and mirrors.
Can I smoke now without someone taking my picture?
While the idea of taking you right now, against the wall, is enough to make me lose control, I want you to know that I’m serious. You’re not a hook up. You’re not a friend with benefits. You’re more than that to me.” I closed my eyes, breathing heavily. “Well, that was…really sort of perfect.” “I’m really sort of perfect … Everyone else knows that. You’re just a little slow on the uptake.
I think that at its best, painting can be an act of juggling perceptions, a hall of mirrors. And it can be a bit confusing and scattering. But as the artist, as the man behind the velvet rope who controls the smoke and the mirrors and the way that things move in the painted space, what I want to do is to try my best to be a good witness.
So he lent her books. After all, one of life's best pleasures is reading a book of perfect beauty; more pleasurable still is rereading that book; most pleasurable of all is lending it to the person one loves: Now she is reading or has just read the scene with the mirrors; she who is so lovely is drinking in that loveliness I've drunk.
But anyway, I was convinced that it would go away, you know. But the idea was that he was sitting on a flight - you know, one of those sort of fairly long flights, like, sort of, you know, Newark to Denver or something like that - so, you know, a few hours.
Getting recognized is sort of weird anyway. I'm 17 now. You get the odd person sort of shouting out "Ron!" or something. And my hair at the moment sort of stands out a bit, can't really avoid it.
There's no smoke and mirrors here.
Back when I was very small, and we had this bathroom with these sort of paneled mirrors on the side. And I would just sit there - because it was the only warm room in the house. And I would - if I was in a bad place - I would go to my imaginary place with these mirrors, and create this entire other world to sort of help level out what I was dealing with.
When an artist paints a picture he does not want you to consider his personality as represented in that picture - he wants you to look at the beauty of that picture. No one cares who has painted the picture as long as it is beautiful.
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