Beauty or Truth?

[Mileena Chardonnay]

Interesting... My vote is the only one for beauty here. Dost ye not consider inner beauty in your decision? True beauty, over false? Likewise, not all truths are true.  

[Bellabie]

I may have chosen truth, previously, but now I pick beauty.
I agree with you and the other whom I quoted, happiness is paramount.

If life is lived in complete beauty, than there is no edge or sword, at all.
b  

[Lady Rayya]

I still vote Keats... wink

the man's turn of phrase is beauty in itself, and his prose expresses the truth behind Mankind....  

[Bellabie]

Well, Lady Rayya, that is rather true...
I cannot choose.
Many curses to this indecision!
b  

[hoplite323]

I just think both are equally because each one is what makes us human. Thruth and lies. Beauty and Ugly. It just makes us human.  

[Bellabie]

Keats.  

[Mileena Chardonnay]

Can the opposite be true as well? Are lies ugliness, and ugliness lies?  

[hoplite323]

Well most lies don't turn out that pretty, even for the right reasons. So I think that works out.  

[Black Hale]

Truth, I don't know that truth is absolute. One could be telling the truth and that may still not be the entire truth. I must also ask, is ignorance truly bliss? "It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." So is ignorance truly bliss? Would you prefer going through life without ever knowing love? A little side-tracked. My apologizes.

As for beauty, is beauty inner beauty of physical beauty. What would you find in either? For inner beauty, would you find the beautiful personality or character? An inner goddess/god within oneself? And what of physical beauty? As humans and in terms of looks and LOOKS ONLY, almost everyone would prefer looking upon a beautiful person than an ugly person. It is human nature. We call someone ugly for a reason because they are not nice to look upon. We call someone beautiful for a reason because they are nice to look upon.

Beauty within CAN make beauty without, it doesn't always have to. It is more important to be beautiful on the inside than on the out, I suppose. As to truth, yes, it may hurt but it's always better to know than not to. The more you know, the more you know you don't know.

Personally, you can't pick between truth and beauty. Sometimes they are completely separate but other times, one cannot be without the other.  

[AmberGriffon]

Only in Truth do we find True beauty. If there is but lies and illusion then what is taken as beautiful its just (in vulgar terms) a brainwash, a collective insanity.

Still hardly do we gasp now a days what is True, because we look where were are told to.

Its like love, we have all access to it, yet most of us no it not. We wont know real love until we get washed of all that Pre-packed Publicity. Find what is true and what is just baggage.  

[AmberGriffon]

Sorry, there was a mistake there in the previous post, meant: "...yet most of us know it not.".  

[Lady Rayya]

eh, we knew what you meant...
it was well put  

[Dameon the -V-]

~Keats~

I don't really have alot to say on this one mates. Beauty in Truth~ Therefore. Keats ^D^  

[peridot1]

Here is the poem that John Keats wrote, "Ode on a Grecian Urn", not to be confused with "Ode to a Grecian Urn" from "The Music Man"


"'Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."  

[Bellabie]

Indeed. Did you vote that option?
I suppose it is good to include, I just assumed that people would be familiar with it or give a go at finding it.
Thank you, friend.
b