Quotes About Inspiration

Nothing really matches the atmosphere of the old Polaroid film. Except perhaps a poem, a musical phrase, or a forest hung with mist.

Will you take a picture? she said. I looked down at the bleak panorama and shook my head. How could I take a picture of nothing?

It pleased me to imagine a presence above us, in continual motion, like liquid stars.

Suddenly he looked up and said, "Patti, did art get us?" I looked away, not really wanting to think about it. "I don't know, Robert. I don't know." Perhaps it did, but no one could regret that. Only a fool would regret being had by art; or a saint.

I'm sure I could write endlessly about nothing. If only I had nothing to say.

Ve o an dü? gören herkesin kendi devirlerindekileri dü?ledi?ini geçirmi?tim akl?mdan. Antik Yunan uygarl??? kendi tanr?lar?n?n dü?lerini kurdu. Emily Brontë çorak arazilerin.

I had no proof that I had the stuff to be an artist, though I hungered to be one. I imagined that I felt the calling and prayed that it be so.

I'm certain, as we filed down the great staircase, that I appeared the same as ever, a moping twelve-year-old, all arms and legs. But secretly I knew I had been transformed, moved by the revelation that human beings create art, that to be an artist was to see what others could not.

Most often the alchemy that produces a poem or a work of fiction is hidden within the work itself, if not embedded in the coiling ridges of the mind.

It ain't so easy writing about nothin

It had started with the moon, inaccessible poem that it was.

I was no actress; I drew no line between life and art.

I preferred an artist who transformed his time, not mirrored it.

But it was the work in a hall devoted to Picasso, from his harlequins to Cubism, that pierced me the most. His brutal confidence took my breath away.

Enfim, junto ao mar, onde Deus está em toda parte, lentamente fui me acalmando. Continuei olhando o céu. As nuvens tinham as cores de um Rafael. Uma rosa ferida. Tive a sensação de que ele próprio tinha pintado a nuvem. Você o verá. Você o conhecerá. Você verá a mão dele. Essas palavras me vieram, e eu soube que um dia veria um céu pintado pela mão de Robert.

I thought about it so much I could almost enter it: the Café Nerval, a small haven where poets and travelers might find the simplicity of asylum.

As we headed back to Tangier we saw a shepherd guiding a camel with her calf. Rolling down the window, I called out: —What is the little one's name? —His name is Jimi Hendrix. —Hooray, I wake from yesterday! —Inshallah! he called out.

In times of strife, we have our imagination, we have our creative impulse, which are things that are more important than material things. They are the things that we should magnify.

I can only thank, as I have within myself many times through the years, this unknown benefactor. She was the one who gave me the last piece of encouragement, a thief's good-luck sign.

But the urge to express myself was my strongest desire, and my siblings were my first eager coconspirators in the harvesting of my imagination

Remember we are mortal but poetry is not.

If one is working from the point of view of getting beauty into one's equation, ... one is on a sure line of progress.

If you are receptive and humble, mathematics will lead you by the hand. Again and again, when I have been at a loss how to proceed, I have just had to wait until I have felt the mathematics led me by the hand. It has led me along an unexpected path, a path where new vistas open up, a path leading to new territory, where one can set up a base of operations, from which one can survey the surroundings and plan future progress.

Peeps cure cancer!