Quotes About Struggle

Ive lost much of my heart and the spark or fire that once created, or produced, the art of fiction.

The artist is a member of the leisured classes who cannot pay for his leisure.

The problem is that once the rules of art are debunked, and once the unpleasant realities the irony diagnoses are revealed and diagnosed, 'then' what do we do?

I have so little mastered the art of tranquil living that wherever I go I trail storm clouds of drama around me.

I never studied sculpture, engineering or architecture. In fact, after college I applied to seven art schools and was rejected by all seven.

I think the business of music has really taken a huge hit. There's no doubt about it. But an artist is always going to produce their art, their music. They're going to paint, they're going to write.

Do your art. But don't wreck your art if it doesn't lend itself to paying the bills. That would be a tragedy.

Despite my extremely modest prices, dealers and art lovers are turning their backs on me. It is very depressing to see the lack of interest shown in an art object which has no market value.

I get tired of singing to the guys I beat up in motion pictures.

Thou art a soul in bliss; but I am bound Upon a wheel of fire; that mine own tears Do scald like molten lead.

Art is form struggling to wake from the nightmare of nature.

Creative output, you know, is just pain. I'm going to be cliché for a minute and say that great art comes from pain.

Most works of art are, necessarily, bad...; one suffers through the many for the few.

The better the artist, the more vulnerable he seems to be.

Artists are never complete people. But if it's art that completes them, then what is taken away?

You'll need to suffer to make any real art.

The challenge artists face today is whether to be an underground, unheard genius, or to dilute their art for the marketplace.

If you leave your art, the world will beat you back to it. The world has not an ambition worth sharing, or a prize worth handling.

I went to New York in 1974, to either try to get a record deal, get into the New York Art Student League, or be a dancer. So that was my plan. Some plan. And I had no money.

Let your deafness no longer be a secret - even in art.

The brightest sun of the art always rises on the horizons of unhappiness.

If you're a struggling artist having money problems just superglue a brick in the middle of a blanket, and call it art. Someone will buy it.

A foolish picture I live in disgust, degradation being eaten by lust.

I guess they call it suicide, but I'm to full to swallow my pride I can't stand losing you The Police Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.