Quote

An echo of music, a face in the street, the wafer of the new moon, a wanton thought - only in the iridescence of things the vagabond soul is happy.

Logan Pearsall Smith

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Logan Pearsall Smith
Age: 80 †
Born: 1865
Born: October 18
Died: 1946
Died: March 2
Author
Literary Critic
Writer
Millville
New Jersey
Lloyd Logan Pearsall Smith
Face
Vagabonds
Faces
Wanton
Happy
Echo
Thought
Echoes
Soul
Street
Music
Moon
Iridescence
Things
Streets
Wafer
Hair
Vagabond

More quotes by Logan Pearsall Smith

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One's own vanities and humiliations I find a delicious subject for conversation. Things said of me behind my back I don't enjoy, and don't listen to them.
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Friends such as we desire are dreams and fables, yet we never quite give up the hope of finding them.
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Fine writers should split hairs together, and sit side by side, like friendly apes, to pick the fleas from each others fur.
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Don't laugh at youth for his affectations he is only trying on one face after another to find his own.
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There is more felicity on the far side of baldness than young men can possibly imagine.
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How it infuriates a bigot, when he is forced to drag out his dark convictions!
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You cannot be both fashionable and first-rate
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There are people who, like houses, are beautiful in dilapidation.
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What things there are to write, if one could only write them! My mind is full of gleaming thought gay moods and mysterious, moth-like meditations hover in my imagination, fanning their painted wings. But always the rarest, those streaked with azure and the deepest crimson, flutter away beyond my reach.
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Hearts that are delicate and kind and tongues that are neither - these make the finest company in the world.
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We grow with years more fragile in body, but morally stutter, and can throw off the chill of a bad conscience almost at once.
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It is a matter of life and death for married people to interrupt each others stories for it they did not, they would burst.
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The lusts and greeds of the body scandalize the Soul but it has to come to heel.
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The vitality of a new movement in Art must be gauged by the fury it arouses.
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Happiness is a wine of the rarest vintage, and seems insipid to a vulgar taste.
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All my life, as down an abyss without a bottom. I have been pouring van loads of information into that vacancy of oblivion I call my mind.
Logan Pearsall Smith
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If it's to be, it's up to me.
Logan Pearsall Smith
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We need new friends some of us are cannibals who have eaten their old friends up others must have ever-renewed audiences before whom to re-enact the ideal version of their lives.
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How can they say my life is not a success? Have I not for more than sixty years got enough to eat and escaped being eaten?
Logan Pearsall Smith
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How awful to reflect that what people say of us is true!
Logan Pearsall Smith