I'd thought I knew what beauty was in women; but she'd surpassed all the language I had for it.
I'd thought I knew what beauty was in women; but she'd surpassed all the language I had for it.
I never changed after that. I sought for nothing in the one great source of change which is humanity. And even in my love and absorption with the beauty of the world, I sought to learn nothing that could be given back to humanity. I drank of the beauty of the world as a vampire drinks. I was satisfied. I was filled to the brim. But I was dead. And I was changeless.
I was a newborn vampire, weeping at the beauty of the night.
I was obsessed with religious questions, the basics: Why are we here? Why is the world so beautiful?
In spite of all the refinements of society that conspired to make art the dizzying perfection of the string quartet or the sprawling grandeur of Fragonards canvases beauty was savage. It was as dangerous and lawless as the earth had been eons before man had one single coherent thought in his head or wrote codes of conduct on tablets of clay. Beauty was a Savage Garden.
I love New Orleans physically. I love the trees and the balmy air and the beautiful days. I have a beautiful house here.
So why must it wound him that the most despairing music is full of beauty Why must it hurt him and make him cynical and sad and untrusting.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories