A Quote by Mary Szybist

I do not believe in the beauty of falling. — © Mary Szybist
I do not believe in the beauty of falling.
Happily there exists more than one kind of beauty. There is the beauty of infancy, the beauty of youth, the beauty of maturity, and, believe me, ladies and gentlemen, the beauty of age.
The leaves are falling, falling as from way off, as though far gardens withered in the skies; they are falling with denying gestures. And in the nights the heavy earth is falling from all the stars down into loneliness. We all are falling. This hand falls. And look at others: it is in them all. And yet there is one who holds this falling endlessly gently in his hands.
Falling, falling, falling, falling down. Look yourself in the eye before you drown.
People accuse me of falling in love easily. It just means that I'm able to see the beauty in most of the people who cross paths with me and I appreciate it for what it is and also for what it isn't. Love is imperfect. Falling for someone's flaws is just as necessary as falling for their strengths. And people like myself, who fall into love easily, are sometimes the loneliest souls around at the end of the day.
All poetry and music, and art of every true sort, bears witness to man's continual falling in love with beauty and his desperate attempt to induce beauty to live with him and enrich his common life.
Beauty comes in many forms-and there is no form more beautiful than you. Just exactly as you are, this minute, right now, without changing a thing...you are beautiful. Beautiful enough to take God's breath away. You do believe this, don't you? Oh, you must. You must. How can I believe in my beauty if you don't believe in yours?
Choosing beauty over content (or choosing beauty as content) is always an act of sedition. If we accept the cant of official culture, we must believe that the beauty we steal from any man-made thing is stolen from its more virtuous and metaphysical backstory, wherein "real" beauty is said to reside.
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,as if orchards were dying high in space.Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."And tonight the heavy earth is fallingaway from all other stars in the loneliness.We're all falling. This hand here is falling.And look at the other one. It's in them all.And yet there is Someone, whose handsinfinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
Sometimes I wish for falling Wish for the release Wish for falling through the air To give me some relief Because falling's not the problem When I'm falling I'm in peace It's only when I hit the ground It causes all the grief
The wallpaper with which the men of science have covered the world of reality is falling to tatters. The grand whorehouse which they have made of life requires no decoration; it is essential that only the drains function adequately. Beauty, that feline beauty that has us by the balls in America, is finished.
Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling like they're falling in love with the ground.
I do not fall. I fell so hard so long ago there is nothing left for me to land on. I just keep falling and falling and falling.
Mountain-rose petals Falling, falling, falling now... Waterfall music
Terror ripped through me as I was falling, falling, falling toward the sea.
I wish I understood the beauty in leaves falling. To whom are we beautiful as we go?
I do believe very much in the idea of unexpected or 'convulsive' beauty - beauty in the service of liberty.
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