When I am working on a problem I never think about beauty. I only think about how to solve the problem. But when I have finished, if the solution is not beautiful, I know it is wrong.
If men had postponed the search for knowledge and beauty until they were secure, the search would never have begun. . . . Life has never been normal. . . . Humanity . . . wanted knowledge and beauty now, and would not wait for the suitable moment that never comes. . . . The insects have chosen a different line: they have sought first the material welfare and security of the hive, and presumably they have their reward. Men are different. They propound mathematical theorems in beleaguered cities, conduct metaphysical arguments in condemned cells, make jokes on scaffolds, discuss the last new poem while advancing to the walls of Quebec, and comb their hair at Thermophylae. This is not a panache; it is our nature.
How did the rose Ever open its heart And give to this world All its beauty? It felt the encouragement of light Against its being, Otherwise, We all remain Too frightened
Enrich your life with the beauty around you.
All the beauty that can exist in the background rests in its relation to the figure.
I love the tools made for mechanics. I stop at the windows of hardware stores. If I could only find an excuse to buy many more of them than I have already bought on the mere pretense that I might have a use for them! They are so beautiful, so simple and so plain and straight to their meaning. There is no "art" about them, they have not been made beautiful, they are beautiful.
Things are not done beautifully. The beauty is an integral part of their being done.
The subject is beauty - or happiness, and man's approach to it is various.
If the purchasers of great art were buying paintings only for their beauty, they would be content to display fine fakes on their walls.
Beauty isn't merely about having the right parts, it's about how each feature plays off one another.