An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; as a wild beast can harm your body, but an evil friend can wound your soul. – See more at: http://friends.com/bad-friend-quotes#sthash.LP8JOirV.dpuf

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It is a great evil to look upon mankind with too clear vision. You seem to be living among wild beasts, and you become a wild beast yourself.

The Story of Prince Alasi and the Princess Firouzkah.

― William Beckford, Episodes of Vathek

Beauty stands and waits with gravity to start her death-defying leap

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

http://www.litera.co.uk/greek_proverbs_freedom_or_death/47/

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In a dancer, there is a reverence for such forgotten things as the miracle of the small beautiful bones and their delicate strength. In a thinker, there is a reverence for the beauty of the alert and directed and lucid mind. In all of us who perform there is an awareness of the smile which is part of the equipment, or gift, of the acrobat. We have all walked the high wire of circumstance at times. We recognize the gravity pull of the earth as he does. The smile is there because he is practicing living at that instant of danger. He does not choose to fall.
At times I fear walking that tightrope. I fear the venture into the unknown. But that is part of the act of creating and the act of performing.
That is what a dancer does.

(Martha Graham in ‘I am a Dancer’)

http://www.narthaki.com/info/quotes1.html

I see nothing in space as promising as the view from a Ferris wheel.” ― E.B. White, The Points Of My Compass

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toasted the hangover
inevitable as sun
that used to rise
in your name

i toasted the carnivals
we never went to
and the things you never won
for me
the ferris wheels we never
kissed on and all the dreams
between us
that sat there
like balloons on a carney’s board
waiting to explode with passion
but slowly deflated
hung slave
under the pin-
prick of a tack

hung
heads down
like lovers
when it doesn’t
work, like me
at last call
after too many cheap

too many sweet
too much
whisky makes me
sick, like the smell of cheap,

like the smell of
the dead

― Daphne Gottlieb, Final Girl