Quotes About Inspiration

Do you see the invisible spirals on the margins of the page? I thought I would run out of paper. It was the pens that ran out

This book was born as I was hungry. Let m eexplain.

Henry had written a novel because there was a hole in him that needed filling, a question that needed answering, a patch of canvas that needed painting—that blend of anxiety, curiosity and joy that is at the origin of art—and he had filled the hole, answered the question, splashed colour on the canvas, all done for himself, because he had to. Then complete strangers told him that his book had filled a hole in them, had answered a question, had brought colour to their lives.

The man told Henry that the only native talent needed to play music well was joy.

As soon as I got close to starting anything, I was beset by questions and hesitations. What I was about to do was so important, so significant, that it always required further consideration. My spontaneity would fizzle. I would put off my oeuvre for another day. Tomorrow at eight thirty I would start, for sure. Meanwhile, in joyful anticipation of this, I would go for a walk and then read.

He often repeated something Father Abrahan said to him once, how faith is ever young, how faith, unlike the rest of us, does not age.

Art is water, and just as humans are always close to water, for reasons of necessity (to drink, to wash, to flush away, to grow) as well as for reasons of pleasure (to play in, to swim in, to relax in front of, to sail upon, to suck on frozen, coloured and sweetened), so humans must always be close to art in all its incarnations, from the frivolous to the essential. Otherwise we dry up.

todo contiene rastros de lo divino.

Music is the true breath of life. We eat so we won't starve to death. We sing so we can hear ourselves live.

You're living through the only moments that make life worthwhile... In love, even beasts become divine.

Anyone who tells you that a greater symphony exists than the breath in your body is lying.

My novel has found a beautiful soul. How shall I write it? Put your soul in the palm of my hand for me to look at, like a crystal jewel. I'll sketch it in words...

Los verdaderos líderes son aquellos que conocen sus limitaciones y trabajan con ellas. Son fieles a sus palabras, predican con el ejemplo e inspiran a los demás a pasar a la acción por sí mismos.

Art is my life and my life is art.

Art is a way of survival.

Imagine the clouds dripping Dig a hole in your garden to put them in

I thought art was a verb, rather than a noun.

Fantasy is reason's sweetheart.

Writers are engineers of human souls.

As students, we have all known two types of teachers, the pedantic and the inspiring. The former have a definite method and operate according to well-established habits; the latter need neither, because they know the subject through and through, Indeed, we may say that teaching methods, which generate subjective habits, are but poor substitutes for the kind of objective intimacy with the subject matter to be taught, which we call 'habitus

its kinda like the quest for the Holy Grail. Who gives a shit what the Holy Grail is, the quest is what's important. The transformation is within yourself, that's what is important.

Once you lose the discipline of functionality as a design guidepost, the imagination runs amok.

Sometimes good ideas spring from having a sense of where you want to go, of having a vision of the next level of products.

We needed philosophical and inspirational guides to make sure we always asked the right questions and found the right answers.