Out in Hollywood, where the streets are paved with Goldwyn, the word "sophisticate" means, very simply, "obscene." A sophisticatedstory is a dirty story. Some of that meaning was wafted eastward and got itself mixed up into the present definition. So that a "sophisticate" means: one who dwells in a tower made of a DuPont substitute for ivory and holds a glass of flat champagne in one hand and an album of dirty post cards in the other.
Deep in his heart, he wondered if he was after all worse than this man or the next. He knew that he could sophisticate himself finally into saying that his own weakness was just the result of circumstances and environment; that often when he raged at himself as an egotist something would whisper ingratiatingly: "No. Genius!
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Let us not neglect the forbidden. Let us not sophisticate ourselves out of the cheap thrill and chill of it: the story told for perversity's sake, and all the better for that; the image created because an artist gets tired of reasons sometimes, and wants to dredge up some picture he's been haunted by, and parade it like a new tattoo. I go with it, readily.
What constitutes a good manager in this field? He must be knowledgeable in the art with which he is concerned, an impresario, labor negotiator, diplomat, educator, publicity and public relations expert, politician, skilled businessman, a social sophisticate, a servant of the community, a tireless leader - becomingly humble before authority - a teacher, a tyrant, and a continuing student of the arts.
John D. Rockefeller
The Sophisticate: 'The world isn't black and white. No one does pure good or pure bad. It's all gray. Therefore, no one is better than anyone else.' The Zetet: 'Knowing only gray, you conclude that all grays are the same shade. You mock the simplicity of the two-color view, yet you replace it with a one-color view...
words are playing around me. each writing is a poem.about me. my presence.i look in to her eyes through her portrait. utter silence gives secret smile and then vanished again to come back. t is her writing - I can see my reflection on a paper. thrilled.thought not to read.not let my concentration destructive.but did not happen. i collect all and read many times. it is your version.about me.beautiful. someone can write about me so much , I had no idea. I wonder , if it was me ? what could I say about you on that clean white paper? my little world -how it could be? I have seen your face in shadow. then slowly came little light then gradually shining under sunlight. how would I express your lay-out of face? it is ugly?or beautiful? those eyes, little nose, a little spot on nose, leaf like lips.smile are different in different occasion... many more. this is in short my version. you write about me, when I will write about you -that will be my version sweetheart. you grown up in front of my desire. your each day passed through my heart. I have your original personality -which getting better and better by days. perhaps getting closer to me. this is my version.you will never know -while you talked to my photo-my whole conscious run after to be present there. my difficult part is -you are composed. you never spoke a word out of art.and I was looking for raw words , where you are open to me, like in my arms, trying to get out.life is in my eye darling. my difficult part-you are too much delicate.along with you I learnt to be sophisticate. I look in to your eyes and felt to deep inside silently , slowly.your soft little body breaking inside my desire , in my wish. then you will get to know my canvas about you. I am watching you growing from common to glorious extraordinary , attractive. you wrote -all because of my love.then I must be part of this. my little world-in my eyes , your story is like this.you gave me a presence in your presence.your lips at time of fighting with me-makes me crazy.your smile or voice keeps me floating , my life force is your slowly sculpture by time. my difficult part is -when you cry. I can listen to it.can't take you in my arms.feel like mad.feel to stop your tears by my touch.this is difficult.deep dark mid night -when you search for me -my difficult time laugh at me.well in my eyes this is your canvas sweetheart.this is my version.words are waiting. the day I will give words to this- then you will be somewhere just beside me. you are you.a beautiful heart.which changed me in love.your beauty is your power to love me , though I am not real.