Quotes from Michelangelo Buonarroti

No thought is born in me that does not bear the image of death.

Trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle.

Please don't trouble yourself. God didn't make us to abandon us.

Precious is sleep, better to be of stone, while the oppression and the shame still last; not seeing and not hearing, I am blest; so do not wake me, hush! keep your voice down.

Is it any wonder, since, when near the fire, I was melted and burned, if now that it's extinguished outside me, it besets and consumes me inside, and bit by bit reduces me to ashes?

Bound to you as the rays are to the sun.

From such a gentle thing,from such a fountain of all delight,my every pain is born...

You no longer feel the fear of a change of being and desire . . . The course of the hours lays not violent hands upon you ; necessity and chance guide not your steps ... I can hardly write without envy. --Michelangelo on the dead.

As when, O lady mine, With chiselled touch The stone unhewn and cold Becomes a living mould, The more the marble wastes, The more the statue grows.

I have never felt salvation in nature. I love cities above all.

In van! Cand vrei sa cazi, nu iei aminte la bratul care vrea sa te ridice.

Self-negation is noble, self-culture is beneficent, self-possession is manly, but to the truly great and inspiring soul they are poor and tame compared to self-abuse.

The best artist has that thought alone which is contained within the marble shell; only the sculptor's hand can break the spell to free the figures.

Se duc genii si durere, mor cuvinte si placere, generatii sub tacere, fum in vant, sub soare umbra.

Cel ce iubirea-si ia drept arma, frange destin si ura, forta si mizerii.

Lord free me of myself, so I can please you!

My soul can find no staircase to Heaven unless it be through Earth's loveliness.

Iar razbunarea e aceasta: intrucat noi l-am ucis pe el, el asa mort cum este ne-a luat lumina si cu ochii inchisi i-a inchis pe-ai nostri, care nu mai stralucesc deasupra pamantului.

si zi de zi, mahnindu-l viitorul, la gandul mortii tresarind exulta si intre teama si nadejde tine pe cai imaginare sa-si ia zborul.

Ce viclesug, ce forta si ce geniu, stapan ingrat, m-ar duce iar la tine, chip milostiv ce-n inima porti moarte?

The noble heart finds most in starlike eyes.

Anyone who follows others never passes them by, and anyone who does not know how to do good works on his own cannot make good use of works by others.

The best of artists hath no art to show, Which the rough stone in its superfluous shell doth not include, To break the marble spell, is all the hand that serves the brain can do.

Cruzimea n-are rost unde-i iubire si nici puterea unde-i umilinta; blandetea-nvinge orice-mpotrivire, ca veseli orice suferinta.