Quotes About Art

You have to learn a few things, which you do along the way, but basically, poetry is a matter of the ear. Iambic pentameters or what constitutes a stanza comes naturally - your ears will know.

Acting isn't that hard, really. I mean, I think that people make a big deal about it, but you just kind of try to say your lines naturally.

As a child, because manga was always around and I was reading it, I naturally thought, 'Hey, I'd like to draw manga - I'd like to be a manga author!'

Art and activism seem to go together naturally, the idea being that if you're an entertainer, you can have a voice, and if you have a voice, you can make a difference. But if I were not an actress, I would still try to extend myself beyond my little micro-universe of my job, family and personal joy.

There are a lot of elements when you're writing, or when I'm writing, that are sitting in the back of your mind. I try to let them stay there, because they find their way in more naturally that way.

Light in Nature creates the movement of colors.

Moonlight is sculpture.

Custom, that is before all law; Nature, that is above all art.

What is true of ballet is no less true of the other lively arts. Change is built into their natures. You watch a performance, and then... it's gone.

The important point that Benjamin and Kant make is that revolutions, whether in art or in society, are about emotion. These moments engender not simply new ideas but new feelings about established power and human possibilities.

The popularization of culture often ends in its total degradation.

I love the way words and pictures work together on a page. I have also noticed how when wise words have visuals added to them, they seem to travel further online, like paper aeroplanes catching an updraught.

Writing means making things large.

that sort of thing. I'm just supposed to come up with raw

Sex was a practiced art to him. Each move calculated. His brain always worked while he performed, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target. But in one moment, everything had changed. She swept him into a tidal wave of pure sensation, and he willingly let go and let her take him with her.

She had no idea she could feel so protected. So beautiful. So cherished. He made her feel all those things. She could give him his art- and it was beautiful.

It wasn't about a women's weight, it was about who they were, if that brightness shone through their eyes and skin and hair. Ricco found beauty in art. Women were a form of art. All shapes and sizes. All body types.

Her courage humbled him. The immense trust it took to allow herself to be tied by him, even in the name of art, was astonishing for a woman like her. It was a true power exchange between them and he loved that. Even craved it.

He had learned to kill and then he had killed. Many times. Fourteen was far too young for his artistic mind to accept the violence and he'd been fortunate that he'd met his teacher, a rope master of more than forty years. The art had saved his sanity and his life. He needed it like others needed air.

There was no point in doing art if you were going to be second-rate.

A writer's unconscious is difficult to read, but the imagination is rooted in the unconscious.

the only truth left is my drunkenness, my sex, and my art.

If everyone took anti-depressants, Chekhov would have nothing to write about.

We are not immune to the lure of wonder and mystery and awe: we have music and art and literature, and find that the serious ethical dilemmas are better handled by Shakespeare and Tolstoy and Schiller and Dostoyevsky and George Eliot than in the mythical morality tales of the holy books.