Quotes about Contrast

Oh, hold on; there's plenty of pain here—but it don't kill.  There's plenty of suffering here, but it don't last.  You see, happiness ain't a thing in itself—it's only a contrast with something that ain't pleasant.  That's all it is.  There ain't a thing you can mention that is happiness in its own self—it's only so by contrast with the other thing.  And

Oh, hold on; there's plenty of pain here—but it don't kill.  There's plenty of suffering here, but it don't last.  You see, happiness ain't a thing in itself—it's only a contrast with something that ain't pleasant.  That's all it is.  There ain't a thing you can mention that is happiness in its own self—it's only so by contrast with the other thing.  And

and as we lay and smoked the pipe of peace and compared all this luxury with the years of tiresome city life that had gone before it, we felt that there was only one complete and satisfying happiness in the world, and we had found it.

Back in Hollywood Hospital, there were no scrubs. The doctors were very well dressed, and the patients were in pajamas. The doctor in charge of the whole place wore baby-blue alligator shoes, drove a light blue '59 Cadillac convertible, and wore what I was sure was the button to end the world as a tie clip.

His eyes kindled and a slight flush sprang into his thin cheeks. For an instant the veil had lifted upon his keen, intense nature, but for an instant only. When I glanced again his face had resumed that red-Indian composure which had made so many regard him as a machine rather than a man.

You may have noticed how extremes call to each other, the spiritual to the animal, the caveman to the angel. You never saw a worse case than this.

Let us see rather that like Janus—or better, like Yama, the Brahmin god of death—religion has two faces, one very friendly, one very gloomy...

we generally find pleasure to be not nearly so pleasant as we expected, and pain very much more painful.

It is the images of women, kind and cruel, that lead me home

Be ugly, be God

The walls are cracked and water runs upon them within threads without sound, black and glistening as blood.

God sometimes uses ugly vessels to carry beautiful things.