Quotes About Art

Bea says that the art of reading is slowly dying, that it's an intimate ritual, that a book is a mirror that offers us only what we carry inside us, that when we read, we do it with all our heart and mind, and great readers are becoming more scarce by the day.

I like to use simple words, but in a complicated way.

You have me like a drawing, erased, coloured in, untitled, signed by your tongue.

Poets deal in writing about feelings and trying to find the language and images for intense feelings.

We honor the Greeks because in their art, literature, philosophy and civic history we discern the early stirrings of our own ideals—rationalism, humanism, democracy—which first took firm root in Athenian soil.

manipulation is the art of making another person's spirit dance for personal amusement, and only through honoring oneself do we become strong enough to refuse to dance.

Never scare a woman who's holding a paintbrush, Blake said.

The Basswood Art and Bookshop was very attractive. Statuary and porcelain displayed in the windows were exquisite. Nancy opened the door and the trio walked in. They were in a small hallway with rooms opening off either side and a passageway at the rear.

With their purchases in boxes the girls strolled down the street to a Spanish restaurant. Here they ate a delicious lunch of tacos and spicy chili. For dessert they had iced fresh fruit. Bess sighed. "Umm, that was super." Afterward, they walked to a wide street beside a park where an outdoor painting exhibition was being held. The group stopped now and then to admire and compliment the artists who sat beside their work.

Poems, to me, do not come from ideas, they come from a series of images that you tuck away in the back of your brain. Little photographic snapshots. Then you get the major vision of the poem, which is like a giant magnet to which all these disparate little impressions fly and adhere, and there is the poem!

Take your broken heart, make it into art.

But all the time-no matter what she was doing-there was music.

Any form of art can only develop by means of single mutations by individual creators. If only traditional conventions are used an art will die, and the widening of an art form is bound to seem strange at first, and awkward. Any growing thing must go through awkward stages. The creator who is misunderstood because of his breach of convention may say to himself, 'I seem strange to you, but anyway I am alive.

in her heart it didn't give her near the same feeling that music did. Nothing was really as good as music.

Mick..drew the big black letters very slowly. At the top she wrote EDISON, and under that she drew the names of DICK TRACY and MUSSOLINI. Then in each corner with the largest letters of all and outlined in red, she wrote her initials - M.K. When that was done she crossed over to the opposite wall and wrote a very bad word - PUSSY, and beneath that she put her initials too.

We have our factory, which is called a stage. We make a product, we color it, we title it, and we ship it out in cans.

You make beauty and it disappears, I love that.

I am grateful, and would thank the Gods(if there were any to thank) that I have finally mastered this art of forgetting--of murdering the memory.

It was one way she had found to fill her solitary childhood, but it was more than that; the act of creation gave substance and shape to her life. It made order out of the chaos.

life's kind of like a painting. A really bizarre, abstract painting. You could look at it and think that all it is, is a blur. And you could continue living your life thinking that all it is, is just a blur. But if you really look at it, really see it, focus on it, and use your imagination, life can become so much more. The painting could be of the sea, the sky, people,buildings, a butterfly on a flower, or anything except the blur you were once convinced it was.

Above Constance's desk were nude photographs of women in 1930s France, draped in provocative poses. She had put them there for Bob's viewing pleasure and in return he had placed African art of naked men above his desk for her.

For him life was all full of opportunities, and I don't think that was necessarily a bad thing, but I think he wanted to grab them for all the wrong reasons. He wasn't passionate about art, he didn't care about lawyers helping people, he didn't even care about my singing voice. It was all for more money. And so I suppose it was fitting that it was the loss of all his money that killed him in the end. The pills and the whiskey were just the nails in the coffin.

Life's kind of like a painting. A really bizzare, abstract painting. You could look at it and think that all it is, is just a blur. And you could continue living your life thinking that all it is, is a blur. But if you really look at it, really see it, focus on it, and use your imagination, life can become so much more.

Art is like a light to me, illuminating the darkest corners of everything.