Malcolm de Chazal Quotes
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The flower in the vase smiles, but no longer laughs.
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We sometimes laugh from ear to ear, but it would be impossible for a smile to be wider than the distance between our eyes.
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The man who can make others laugh secures more votes for a measure than the man who forces them to think.
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Laughter is regional: a smile extends over the whole face.
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Monkeys are superior to men in this: when a monkey looks into a mirror, he sees a monkey.
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Art is nature speeded up and God slowed down.
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Women eat while they are talking; men talk while they are eating.
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Animals awaken, first facially, then bodily. Men's bodies wake before their faces do. The animal sleeps within its body, man sleeps with his body in his mind.
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A women knows how to keep quiet when she is in the right, whereas a man, when he is in the right, will keep on talking.
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The beautiful remains so in ugly surroundings.
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Women make us poets, children make us philosophers.
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The idealist walks on tiptoe, the materialist on his heels.
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Our expression and our words never coincide, which is why the animals don't understand us.
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The mind gets distracted in all sorts of ways. The heart is its own exclusive concern and diversion.
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The family is a court of justice which never shuts down for night or day.
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Silence is a lawyer who pleads with his eyes.
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We always keep God waiting while we admit more importunate suitors.
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The flower is a jumble of thighs, the sun's harem - the most oriental thing imaginable.
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The flower has no weekday self, dressed as it always is in Sunday clothes.
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The light would reach us more quickly in the morning and fade more slowly at night if the whole earth were divided into vast flower beds that called forth the light at dawn and clutched it longer at nightfall. Nature instituted summer for flowers long before man took summer over for his own uses.
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The sunflower keeps its eye on the sun with its back turned to the shade. We die facing life with our backs to death, as if we were walking out of a room backwards.
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No matter how much leaves are fixed face to face they always look at each other aslant, whereas all fruits end up head-on however carelessly jumbled. A bunch of flowers is a house of colored cards. A heap of fruit is a hive of colored bees.
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Petals are a plant’s eardrum. Distant sounds make them quiver like the needle of a seismograph.
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A flowing river is an infinity of superimposed production belts.