Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.
If you look round Hollywood there’s no end of white smiles and six packs. Long lines of beautiful people lining up to be incredible on film.
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.
At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to photograph, paint, or even remember it. It is enough.
Youth is happy, because it has the ability to see beauty. When this ability is lost, wretched old age begins, decay, unhappiness.