In the world, there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.
Aesthetic life is not something sophisticated – that’s a humanistic lie. Aesthetic life is as integral to being human as building sandcastles on the beach and giving your children names.
In judging of a beautiful statue, the aesthetic faculty is absolutely and completely gratified by the splendid curves of those marble lips that are dumb to our complaint, the noble modeling of those limbs that are powerless to help us.
Art has the qualities of aesthetic beauty, purity, transcendence.
Love is an aesthetic, studded with fairy tales.
It’s odd that there is a high level of appreciation of nature. There is the aesthetic side that really loves nature and beauty.
If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.
Better a cautious commander, and not a rash one.
Taking care of children has nothing to do with politics. I think perhaps with time, instead of there being a politicization of humanitarian aid, there will be a humanization of politics.
I can testify to what UNICEF means to children because I was among those who received food and medical relief right after World War II.
Poetry, is a life long war waged against ineffable beauty.
Poets are souls at war with words from battles waged within.
The BJP decides its own policies.
The regional parties have emerged as a strong force, and they, too, deserve a place in national politics.
Politics is a game of compromise.
Poverty is multidimensional. It extends beyond money incomes to education, health care, political participation, and advancement of one’s own culture and social organization.
Neither India nor Russia perceives a threat from the strength of the other. Each sees a benefit for itself in the increased political and economic strength of the other.
It requires an effort of logical acrobatics to believe that carnage of innocents is an instrument for freedom and elections are a symbol of deception and repression!
My poet’s heart gives me strength to face political problems, particularly those which have a bearing on my conscience.
My poetry is a declaration of war, not an exordium to defeat. It is not the defeated soldier’s drumbeat of despair, but the fighting warrior’s will to win. It is not the de- spirited voice of dejection but the stirring shout of victory.