Quotes About Art

The buttocks are the most aesthetically pleasing part of the body because they are non-functional. Although they conceal an essential orifice, these pointless globes are as near as the human form can ever come to abstract art.

trying to translate into a language that's known a poem writ in the language of stone

This is the summit of contemplation, and no art can touch it Blue, so blue, the far-out archipelago and the sea shimmering, shimmering No art can touch it, the mind can only try to become attuned to it To become quiet, and space itself out, to become open and still, unworlded Knowing itself in the diamond country, in the ultimate unlettered light. A High Blue Day on Scalpay

What is music anyway? It's a form of communication, and that's why I play the kind of music that I think - that I hope - can communicate with people.

I mean, what is music anyway? It's a form of communication - at least for me it is. And that's why I play the kind of music that I think - that I hope - can communicate with people.

Müzik parmaklar olmadan çal?n?r, kulaklar olmadan iÅŸitilir.

The easiest way to do art is to dispense with success and failure altogether and just get on with it

Art does not have to be dull, to be effective; the artist does not have to be a bore, to be real.

Men and women who are lonely create. Those who are gregarious rarely do... Any poet would rather bed with a girl than write a poem about her. All art is the result of frustration. Art is energy deflected from its normal course in action.

She that with poetry is won Is but a desk to write upon.

The history of art is the history of revivals.

My young friend, why to poetry aspire? Don't court the muses, but adopt a trade, For literature is sadly underpaid.

What is the end of Fame? 'tis but to fill A certain portion of uncertain paper: Some liken it to climbing up a hill, Whose summit, like all hills, is lost in vapour: For this men write, speak, preach, and heroes kill, And bards burn what they call their "midnight taper," To have, when the original is dust, A name, a wretched picture, and worse bust.

Whatsoe'er thy birth, Thou wert a beautiful thought and softly bodied forth.

Él obraba cuando todos dormían, lo que en una imperceptible torsión gramatical podía significar que su obra era el sueño.

Y no es el dragón acaso el emblema permanente de la vida? El dragón es el aire, el espacio brillante y claro gracias al cual los objetos del mundo se disponen con un ritmo estable, del que extraen su arte los pintores. El dragón resuena largamente en la noche, cuando los lugares se opacan y debemos crear una pequeña luz, y dentro de ella una musiquita que nos conserve la vida mientras todo se extravía, quizás irremisiblemente.

A way of using words to say things which could not possibly be said in any other way, things which in a sense do not exist till they are born … in poetry.

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.

Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that's the whole art and joy of words.

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... it has no survival value; rather is one of those things that give value to survival.

Ultimately, I want a peak experience in reading, and that is sometimes difficult to find in contemporary fiction. I'm not interested in books that are just clever and well executed; polish doesn't impress me, and I don't care about a merely capable sentence. Life is short; I want a confrontation with high art. I want soul. Great literature rattles the mind and makes the body sing. It's an unmistakable, electric feeling, and too rare. That is what I want.

Art is a kind of innate drive that seizes a human being and makes him its instrument. The artist is not a person endowed with free will who seeks his own ends, but one who allows art to realize its purpose through him. As a human being he may have moods and a will and personal aims, but as an artist he is "man" in a higher sense— he is "collective man"— one who carries and shapes the unconscious, psychic forms of mankind.

A creative person has little power over his own life. He is not free. He is captive and driven by his daimon.