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
Faces
Wanton
Happy
Echo
Thought
Echoes
Soul
Street
Music
Moon
Iridescence
Things
Streets
Wafer
Hair
Vagabond
Face
Vagabonds

More quotes by Logan Pearsall Smith

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Happiness is a wine of the rarest vintage, and seems insipid to a vulgar taste.
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A best-seller is the gilded tomb of a mediocre talent
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I like to walk down Bond Street, thinking of all the things I don't desire.
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It is the wretchedness of being rich that you have to live with rich people.
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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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The emergence of a new term to describe a certain phenomenon, of a new adjective to designate a certain quality, is always of interest, both linguistically and from the point of view of the history of human thought.
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All reformers, however strict their social conscience, live in houses just as big as they can pay for.
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A slight touch of friendly malice and amusement towards those we love keeps our affections for them from turning flat.
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Money and sex are forces too unruly for our reason they can only be controlled by taboos with which we tamper at our peril.
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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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Eat with the rich, but go to the play with the poor, who are capable of joy.
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The truth is that the phenomena of artistic production are still so obscure, so baffling, we are still so far from an accurate scientific and psychological knowledge of their genesis or meaning, that we are forced to accept them as empirical facts and empirical and non-explanatory names are the names that suit them best.
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If it's to be, it's up to me.
Logan Pearsall Smith
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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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All mirrors are magical mirrors, and we never see our faces in them.
Logan Pearsall Smith
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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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What pursuit is more elegant than that of collecting the ignominies of our nature and transfixing them for show, each on the bright pin of a polished phrase?
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The notion of making money by popular work, and then retiring to do good work, is the most familiar of all the devil's traps for artists.
Logan Pearsall Smith
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Charming people live up to the very edge of their charm, and behave as outrageously as the world will let them.
Logan Pearsall Smith
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All our lives we are putting pennies — our most golden pennies — into penny-in-the-slot machines that are almost always empty.
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