A Quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
A man is like a bit of Labrador spar, which has no luster as you turn it in your hand, until you come to a particular angle; then it shows deep and beautiful colors.
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A man is like a bit of Labrador spar, which has no lustre as you turn it in your hand until you come to a particular angle; then it shows deep and beautiful colors. There is no adaptation or universal applicability in men, but each has his special Talent, and the mastery of Successful men consists in adroitly keeping themselves where and when that turn shall be oftenest to be practiced.
When a woman extends her hand for you to shake it, then you shake her hand. You do not turn it up and kiss it. And it is just so creepy. Because, you know, I handed it at this angle. I handed it at the handshake angle and so I'm not giving it to you to do whatever you want with it. I'm not loaning it to you. It's like if somebody borrowed your lawnmower and you're assuming they're going to use it to mow their lawn. You don't want to find out later they put it in the ocean!
When you a darker brunette and have pale skin like I do, it can wash you out a bit, so learning to contour is really helpful. I think you can be a bit more bold with eye makeup to define your eyes, and the same with lip colors - you can go for dark wine colors, which I love.
Or perhaps is is that time doesn't heal wounds at all, perhaps that is the biggest lie of them all, and instead what happens is that each wound penetrates the body deeper and deeper until one day you find that the sheer geography of your bones - the angle of your hips, the sharpness of your shoulders, as well as the luster of your eyes, the texture of your skin, the openness of your smile - has collapsed under the weight of your griefs.
If I tell you purple look good on you, and you ain't never wore purple, your favorite colors are red and green, and you're like, No man, these my colors. You won't know purple is your color until you try it on.
And I'll see your true colors shining through I see your true colors and that's why I love you so don't be afraid to let them show your true colors, true colors are beautiful like a RAINBOW.
I was at the bottom, man. I was in a deep, deep place. It wasn't like I needed a little bit of medication and a couple of therapy sessions, and then we're back.
I don't like mixed colors that much, like plum color or deep, deep colors that are hard to define.
Until you destroy your body, you don't learn to appreciate it. Treat the body like a temple because the body is so beautiful. If and when you understand your body then you will respect it. The body is like a bud, until the sun rises it will not bloom, until it blooms it will not be beautiful or give perfume. So respect it, take care of it.
If I'm feeling desperate, I'll go out image-hunting. I'll go to news agents and stand at the rack flicking through magazines or go to second-hand bookshops. And then, bit by bit, like concrete poetry, I start to realise that I am drawn to particular things, and then I start wondering why that is.
It may be that until now there has been no more potent means for beautifying man himself than piety: it can turn man into so much art, surface, play of colors, graciousness that his sight no longer makes one suffer.---
Avoid that which an enemy tells you to do; for if you follow his advice, you will smite your, knees with the hand of sorrow. If he shows you a road straight as an arrow, turn from it and go the other way.
What is life but the angle of vision? A man is measured by the angle at which he looks at objects.
...she waited until she and my grandfather Anthel were just home from their honeymoon, and then sat him down and told him this: "Honey, I know you like to take a drink, and that's all right, but be forewarned that I ain't your maid and I ain't your punching bag, and if you ever raise your hand to me you'd best kill me. Because otherwise I'll wait until you're asleep; sew you into the bed; and beat you to death with a frying pan." Until he died, I am told, my grandfather was a gentle man.
When we spar, we spar right-handers, we spar left-handers. We spar everybody.
Books are like rocks. You hold one in your hand and look at it in various lights to get a sense of it, and then when you get a good angle, you throw it through a window to see what happens.
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