Sharpness Quotes

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Categories: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
sharpness-is-overrated-keith-carter
real-sharpness-comes-without-effort-li-mu
sharpness-is-bourgeois-concept-henri-cartierbresson
pounding-edge-to-sharpness-will-not-make-it-last-laozi
the-glory-70mm-is-sharpness-image-it-offers-kenneth-branagh
the-best-quarrels-in-heat-are-cursed-by-those-that-feel-their-sharpness-william-shakespeare
do-not-use-sharpness-your-speech-on-your-mother-who-taught-you-how-to-speak-ali-ibn-abi-talib
tis-sharpness-our-mind-that-gives-edge-to-our-pains-pleasures-michel-de-montaigne
i-love-friendship-that-flatters-itself-in-sharpness-vigor-its-communications-michel-de-montaigne
a-philosophical-thought-has-probably-not-attained-all-its-sharpness-all-its-illumination-until-it-is-expressed-in-french-charles-augustin-saintebeuve
i-love-sharpness-political-tone-robocop-i-think-that-such-film-is-now-urgently-needed-jose-padilha
i-guess-producers-saw-me-knew-i-was-literate-i-always-tried-to-be-alert-its-funny-because-you-have-to-have-sharpness-to-do-those-shows-especially-june-lockhart
do-not-wander-in-deeps-where-shrikers-shadow-creeps-when-he-rises-from-beneath-beware-sharpness-his-teeth-janet-lee-carey
you-cannot-underestimate-sharpness-peoples-bs-radar-they-can-spot-soulless-bureaucratic-tactic-million-miles-away-gary-vaynerchuk
opinions-theories-systems-pass-by-turns-over-grindstone-time-which-at-first-gives-them-brilliancy-sharpness-but-finally-wears-them-out-antoine-rivarol
my-aloneness-had-never-bothered-me-i-hadnt-even-been-aware-it-but-now-it-overwhelmed-me-the-awareness-washed-over-me-with-painful-sharpness-deep-grief-now-that-i-had-company-lind
the-golden-rule-is-work-fast-as-for-framing-composition-focusthis-is-no-time-to-start-asking-yourself-questions-you-just-have-to-trust-your-intuition-jacqueshenri-lartigue
close-your-mouthblock-off-your-sensesblunt-your-sharpnessuntie-your-knotssoften-your-glaresettle-your-dustthis-is-primal-identity-laozi
seal-openings-shut-doors-dull-sharpness-untie-knots-dim-light-become-one-with-dust-this-is-called-profound-union-laozi
one-blessings-age-is-to-learn-not-to-part-on-note-sharpness-to-treasure-moments-spent-with-those-we-love-to-make-them-whenever-possible-good-to-eleanor-roosevelt
then-summer-fades-passes-october-comes-well-smell-smoke-then-feel-unexpected-sharpness-thrill-nervousness-swift-elation-sense-sadness-thomas-wolfe
violins-are-lively-forward-importunate-wits-that-distinguish-themselves-by-flourishes-imagination-sharpness-repartee-glances-satire-bear-away-richard-steele
i-do-not-love-bright-sword-for-its-sharpness-nor-arrow-for-its-swiftness-nor-warrior-for-his-glory-i-love-only-that-which-they-defend-jrr-tolkien
i-do-not-love-the-bright-sword-of-its-sharpness-nor-the-arrow-for-its-swiftness-nor-the-warrior-for-his-glory-i-love-only-that-which-they-defend
you-need-time-for-grief-to-heal-for-memories-to-fade-in-sharpness-time-to-adjust-your-expectation-for-future-be-gentle-with-yourself-youll-make-it-dee-henderson
why-did-happy-memories-fade-blur-until-one-could-scarcely-recall-them-at-all-while-horrible-memories-seemed-to-retain-their-blinding-clarity-painful-judith-mcnaught
it-is-fear-that-i-stand-most-in-fear-in-sharpness-it-exceeds-every-other-feeling-michel-de-montaigne
it-is-understandable-you-would-want-to-come-back-as-yourself-into-wonderland-with-sharpness-colour-queen-hearts-in-newly-opened-pack-cards-but-coming-back-as-yourself-is-resurrec
i-will-perform-function-whetstone-which-is-about-to-restore-sharpness-to-iron-though-itself-unable-to-cutlat-fungar-vice-cotis-acutumreddere-quae-horace
i-love-to-praise-what-i-love-i-wont-for-minute-believe-that-love-is-blind-indeed-it-gives-clearness-without-sharpness-surely-that-is-best-light-katherine-anne-porter
war-must-be-while-we-defend-our-lives-against-destroyer-who-would-devour-all-but-i-do-not-love-bright-sword-for-its-sharpness-nor-arrow-for-its-swiftness-nor-warrior-for-his-glor
what-you-think-is-point-is-not-point-at-all-but-only-beginning-sharpness-flann-obrien
What agony he suffered as he watched that light, in whose golden atmosphere were moving, behind the closed sash, the unseen and detested pair, as he listened to that murmur which revealed the presence of the man who had crept in after his own departure, the perfidy of Odette, and the pleasures which she was at that moment tasting with the stranger. And yet he was not sorry that he had come; the torment which had forced him to leave his own house had lost its sharpness when it lost its uncertainty, now that Odette's other life, of which he had had, at that first moment, a sudden helpless suspicion, was definitely there, almost within his grasp, before his eyes, in the full glare of the lamp-light, caught and kept there, an unwitting prisoner, in that room into which, when he would, he might force his way to surprise and seize it; or rather he would tap upon the shutters, as he had often done when he had come there very late, and by that signal Odette would at least learn that he knew, that he had seen the light and had heard the voices; while he himself, who a moment ago had been picturing her as laughing at him, as sharing with that other the knowledge of how effectively he had been tricked, now it was he that saw them, confident and persistent in their error, tricked and trapped by none other than himself, whom they believed to be a mile away, but who was there, in person, there with a plan, there with the knowledge that he was going, in another minute, to tap upon the shutter. And, perhaps, what he felt (almost an agreeable feeling) at that moment was something more than relief at the solution of a doubt, at the soothing of a pain; was an intellectual pleasure.

Marcel Proust
what-agony-he-suffered-as-he-watched-that-light-in-whose-golden-atmosphere-were-moving-behind-closed-sash-unseen-detested-pair-as-he-listened-to-that-murmur-which-revealed-presen
i-began-to-see-algiers-as-one-most-fascinating-dramatic-places-on-earth-in-small-space-this-beautiful-but-congested-city-intersected-two-great-conflicts-contemporary-world-the-fi
We are thankful to come here for rest, sir, " said Jenny. "You see, you don't know what the rest of this place is to us; does he, Lizzie? It's the quiet, and the air." "The quiet!" repeated Fledgeby, with a contemptuous turn of his head towards the City's roar. "And the air!" with a "Poof!" at the smoke. "Ah!" said Jenny. "But it's so high. And you see the clouds rushing on above the narrow streets, not minding them, and you see the golden arrows pointing at the mountains in the sky from which the wind comes, and you feel as if you were dead." The little creature looked above her, holding up her slight transparent hand. "How do you feel when you are dead?" asked Fledgeby, much perplexed. "Oh, so tranquil!" cried the little creature, smiling. "Oh, so peaceful and so thankful! And you hear the people who are alive, crying, and working, and calling to one another down in the close dark streets, and you seem to pity them so! And such a chain has fallen from you, and such a strange good sorrowful happiness comes upon you!" Her eyes fell on the old man, who, with his hands folded, quietly looked on. "Why it was only just now, " said the little creature, pointing at him, "that I fancied I saw him come out of his grave! He toiled out at that low door so bent and worn, and then he took his breath and stood upright, and looked all round him at the sky, and the wind blew upon him, and his life down in the dark was over!-Till he was called back to life, " she added, looking round at Fledgeby with that lower look of sharpness. "Why did you call him back?" "He was long enough coming, anyhow, " grumbled Fledgeby. "But you are not dead, you know, " said Jenny Wren. "Get down to life!" Mr Fledgeby seemed to think it rather a good suggestion, and with a nod turned round. As Riah followed to attend him down the stairs, the little creature called out to the Jew in a silvery tone, "Don't be long gone. Come back, and be dead!" And still as they went down they heard the little sweet voice, more and more faintly, half calling and half singing, "Come back and be dead, Come back and be dead!

Charles Dickens
we-are-thankful-to-come-here-for-rest-sir-said-jenny-you-see-you-dont-know-what-rest-this-place-is-to-us-does-he-lizzie-its-quiet-air-the-quiet-repeated-fledgeby-with-contemptuou
It is very easy to grow tired at collecting; the period of a low tide is about all men can endure. At first the rocks are bright and every moving animal makes his mark on the attention. The picture is wide and colored and beautiful. But after an hour and a half the attention centers weary, the color fades, and the field is likely to narrow to an individual animal. Here one may observe his own world narrowed down until interest and, with it, observation, flicker and go out. And what if with age this weariness becomes permanent and observation dim out and not recover? Can this be what happens to so many men of science? Enthusiasm, interest, sharpness, dulled with a weariness until finally they retire into easy didacticism? With this weariness, this stultification of attention centers, perhaps there comes the pained and sad memory of what the old excitement was like, and regret might turn to envy of the men who still have it. Then out of the shell of didacticism, such a used-up man might attack the unwearied, and he would have in his hands proper weapons of attack. It does seem certain that to a wearied man an error in a mass of correct data wipes out all the correctness and is a focus for attack; whereas the unwearied man, in his energy and receptivity, might consider the little dross of error a by-product of his effort. These two may balance and produce a purer thing than either in the end. These two may be the stresses which hold up the structure, but it is a sad thing to see the interest in interested men thin out and weaken and die. We have known so many professors who once carried their listeners high on their single enthusiasm, and have seen these same men finally settle back comfortably into lectures prepared years before and never vary them again. Perhaps this is the same narrowing we observe in relation to ourselves and the tide pool-a man looking at reality brings his own limitations to the world. If he has strength and energy of mind the tide pool stretches both ways, digs back to electrons and leaps space into the universe and fights out of the moment into non-conceptual time. Then ecology has a synonym which is ALL.

John Steinbeck
it-is-easy-to-grow-tired-at-collecting-period-low-tide-is-about-all-men-can-endure-at-first-rocks-are-bright-every-moving-animal-makes-his-mark-on-attention-the-picture-is-wide-c
I have always been interested in this man. My father had a set of Tom Paine's books on the shelf at home. I must have opened the covers about the time I was 13. And I can still remember the flash of enlightenment which shone from his pages. It was a revelation, indeed, to encounter his views on political and religious matters, so different from the views of many people around us. Of course I did not understand him very well, but his sincerity and ardor made an impression upon me that nothing has ever served to lessen. I have heard it said that Paine borrowed from Montesquieu and Rousseau. Maybe he had read them both and learned something from each. I do not know. But I doubt that Paine ever borrowed a line from any man... Many a person who could not comprehend Rousseau, and would be puzzled by Montesquieu, could understand Paine as an open book. He wrote with a clarity, a sharpness of outline and exactness of speech that even a schoolboy should be able to grasp. There is nothing false, little that is subtle, and an impressive lack of the negative in Paine. He literally cried to his reader for a comprehending hour, and then filled that hour with such sagacious reasoning as we find surpassed nowhere else in American letters - seldom in any school of writing. Paine would have been the last to look upon himself as a man of letters. Liberty was the dear companion of his heart; truth in all things his object... we, perhaps, remember him best for his declaration: 'The world is my country; to do good my religion.' Again we see the spontaneous genius at work in 'The Rights of Man', and that genius busy at his favorite task - liberty. Written hurriedly and in the heat of controversy, 'The Rights of Man' yet compares favorably with classical models, and in some places rises to vaulting heights. Its appearance outmatched events attending Burke's effort in his 'Reflections'. Instantly the English public caught hold of this new contribution. It was more than a defense of liberty; it was a world declaration of what Paine had declared before in the Colonies. His reasoning was so cogent, his command of the subject so broad, that his legion of enemies found it hard to answer him. 'Tom Paine is quite right, ' said Pitt, the Prime Minister, 'but if I were to encourage his views we should have a bloody revolution.' Here we see the progressive quality of Paine's genius at its best. 'The Rights of Man' amplified and reasserted what already had been said in 'Common Sense', with now a greater force and the power of a maturing mind. Just when Paine was at the height of his renown, an indictment for treason confronted him. About the same time he was elected a member of the Revolutionary Assembly and escaped to France. So little did he know of the French tongue that addresses to his constituents had to be translated by an interpreter. But he sat in the assembly. Shrinking from the guillotine, he encountered Robespierre's enmity, and presently found himself in prison, facing that dread instrument. But his imprisonment was fertile. Already he had written the first part of 'The Age of Reason' and now turned his time to the latter part. Presently his second escape cheated Robespierre of vengeance, and in the course of events 'The Age of Reason' appeared. Instantly it became a source of contention which still endures. Paine returned to the United States a little broken, and went to live at his home in New Rochelle - a public gift. Many of his old companions in the struggle for liberty avoided him, and he was publicly condemned by the unthinking. {The Philosophy of Paine, June 7, 1925}

Thomas A. Edison
i-have-always-been-interested-in-this-man-my-father-had-set-tom-paines-books-on-shelf-at-home-i-must-have-opened-covers-about-time-i-was-13-and-i-can-still-remember-flash-enlight
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