Quotes About Expression

Ozzy Osbourne had it built when he lived there before me. He was so sweet, but let's just say we have a different design aesthetic. The studio was all black and scary when I moved in. I made it mine, lightening the room and overlapping pretty rugs to create a sound cocoon.

This afternoon my husband Eric set big drop cloths in the backyard as an activity for them. He's done this for years, laying out paints and brushes so they can have at it. He says it's like therapy. A way to get out all your emotions. I panicked the first time I saw them throwing paint.

For the next two years, singing was the only time I didn't stutter. I sang for everything I wanted, like some Disney princess making a wish.

Now, anybody who's seen me sing or even tell a joke knows I have the facial expressions of Jim Carrey.

I have listened and I have been quiet all my life. But now I will speak.

The sexiest thing about style is if you kind of just take your personality and put it in what you wear. That's what I think is cool.

It seems the word 'slut' can be applied to any activity that doesn't include knitting, praying, or sitting perfectly still lest any sudden movements be deemed whorish.

A high school teacher once told me that identity is half what we tell ourselves and half what we tell other people about ourselves.

I spoke on a panel once with a famous new age author/guru in leather pants and she said that the problem with women is that we don't "speak from our power," but from a place of victimization. As if the traumas forced upon us could be shaken off with a steady voice- as if we had actual power to speak from.

Edgar Allan Poe once called the death of a beautiful woman "the most poetical topic in the world" and I have often found myself wondering how many women writers who have killed themselves or let themselves be otherwise obliterated were trying, somehow, to fulfil this most popular of narratives. We're most valuable when we're smiling, dead, posing, our words hanging on the page with no real body behind them.

It's not words that fail, it's the people who wield them. We have no power over life and death, we are subject to pain and disease and misery, but we command words. When you think about it, words are all we really have.

Life without music can only be seen in black and white. It takes music to add the color.

The words are vessels that are filled with experience that overflows the vessels. The words point to an experience; they are not the experience. The moment that I express what I experience exclusively in thought and words, the experience has gone: it has dried up, is dead, a mere thought. Hence being is indescribable in words and is communicable only by sharing my experience.

be aware of the fact that words, in and by themselves, have no reality, except in terms of the context in which they are used, in terms of the intentions and the character of the one who uses them.

democratically expressed opinion is hardly more than the applause at a sports event.

As Simone Weil expressed it so beautifully:The same words can be commonplace or extraordinary according to the manner in which they are spoken. And this manner depends on the depth of the region in a man's being from which they proceed without the will being able to do anything. And by a marvelous agreement they reach the same region in him who hears them. Thus the hearer can discern, if he has any power of discernment, what is the value of the words.

in the act of giving lies the expression of my aliveness.

Giving is the highest expression of potency. In the very act of giving, I experience my strength, my wealth, my power. This experience of heightened vitality and potency fills me with joy. I experience myself as overflowing, spending, alive, hence as joyous.[3] Giving is more joyous than receiving, not because it is a deprivation, but because in the act of giving lies the expression of my aliveness.

Needless to say that in this beautiful poem Goethe expresses the core of his concept of investigating nature.

In the Eastern religions and in mysticism, the love of God is an intense feeling experience of oneness, inseparably linked with the expression of this love in every act of living.

Worte sind Gefäße, die wir mit Erlebnissen füllen, doch diese quellen über das Gefäß hinaus.

The loss of the self has increased the necessity to conform, for it results in a profound doubt of one's own identity.

Friendliness, cheerfulness, and everything that a smile is supposed to express, become automatic responses which one turns on and off like an electric switch.

Without information, deliberation, and the power to make one's decision effective, democratically expressed opinion is hardly more than the applause at a sports event.