Quotes About Art

Naast dit mensenras bestaat nog een ras van wezens, de onmenselijken, het ras der kunstenaars die, door onbekende impulsen geprikkeld, de levenloze massa van de mensen nemen en door de koortshitte en gisting die zij daarin verwekken dit kleffe deeg in brood veranderen en het brood in wijn en de wijn in zang. Uit dit dode compost en de inerte sintels brengen zij een lied voort dat besmet.

There are evidences of a very great art in Europe as long as twenty-five thousand years ago, and in Egypt as far back as sixty thousand years. Money had nothing to to do with the production of these treasures. Money will have nothing to do with the art of the future.

the best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature

Make me into any fantastic shape, use all your art, exhaust your lung-power - still I shall only be a thing fabricated, at the best a beautiful cultured soul.

Directly across the street the Ciné Combat offers its distinguished clientele Metropolis.

Ä°ster kabul edilsin, ister edilmesin, sanatç?n?n kafas? sürekli olarak dünyay? yeniden yaratma, insan?n safl???n? yeniden yaratma düÅŸüncesiyle meÅŸguldür. Bunun ötesinde, insan?n safl???n? yaln?zca özgürlüÄŸünü kazanarak yeniden elde edebileceÄŸini bilir. ÖzgürlüÄŸün buradaki anlam? otomasyonun ölümüdür.

Like Boticelli's Venus, you rose from the sea and are still all foam!

Baudelaire merely laid his heart bare; Rimbaud plucks his out and devours it slowly.

Ceea ce nu se afl? în strad? este fals, mijlocit, altfel spus, literatur?.

I understand full well that it is not the mob which creates the films we see—not technically, at any rate. But in a deeper sense it is the mob which actually creates the films. For the first time in the history of art the mob has dictated what the artist should do.

This is not a book. This is libel, slander, defamation of character. This is not a book, in the ordinary sense of the word. No, this is a prolonged insult, a gob of spit in the face of Art, a kick in the pants to God, Man, Destiny, Time, Love, Beauty . . . what you will. I am going to sing for you, a little off key perhaps, but I will sing. I will sing while you croak, I will dance over your dirty corpse . . .

with the result that somewhere along the way one discovers that what one has to tell is not nearly so important as the telling itself.

until the heart bursts and there is nothing left but a blinding, scorching light, the radiant light that carries off the fecundated seeds of the stars. The story of art which roots lie in massacre.

Seni düzüyorum Tania, düzülmüÅŸ kalas?n diye.

For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.

Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead.

In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the Gods are everywhere

Art is the child of Nature.

Great is the art of beginning, but even greater is the art of ending.

The truth of art lies in its power to break the monopoly of established reality to define what is real.

Art breaks open a dimension inaccessible to other experience, a dimension in which human beings, nature, and things no longer stand under the law of the established reality principle...The encounter with the truth of art happens in the estranging language and images which make perceptible, visible, and audible that which is no longer, or not yet, perceived, said, and heard in everyday life.

Inasmuch as art preserves, with the promise of happiness, the memory of the goal that failed, it can enter, as a 'regulative idea,' the desperate struggle for changing the world. Against all fetishism of the productive forces, against the continued enslavement of individuals by the objective conditions (which remain those of domination), art represents the ultimate goal of all revolutions: the freedom and happiness of the individual.

A noble craft, but somehow a most melancholy! All noble things are touched with that.

There is an aesthetics in all things.