Quotes About Art

I write storys to entertain not to be the best

Wherever there's a conductor, you're sure to find a dead composer!

Like many people who dress in black, the lump of coal was interested in becoming an artist.

If you are going to hear the work of the world's greatest composers, you will have to allow for a little murder here and there. […] Those who want justice can go to the police, but those who want something a little more interesting should go to the orchestra!

BRETT HELQUIST

literature," I said. "What's

A menudo las primeras impresiones son absolutamente equivocadas. Puedes mirar un cuadro por primera vez y que no te guste nada, pero, después de mirarlo un rato, te puede parecer muy agradable

He has a wonderful beauty and stillness and you do not. Your poems are unpleasant.

I became an art major, took every art class my school had to offer. In college, I majored in Advertising Art and Design.

My parents are artists in their world, in the world of modern artists, you are supposed to just go into your studio and tune everything out, and your entire relationship with your work is supposed to be a super private one. That was the way to do it and you weren't deeply truly artistic if that wasn't the way you were engaging the press.

Of all the arts, for us the cinema is the most important.

Every question "runs in a vicious circle" because political life as a whole is an endless chain consisting of an infinite number of links. The whole art of politics lies in finding and taking as firm a grip as we can of the link that is least likely to be struck from our hands, the one that is most important at the given moment, the one that most of all guarantees its possessor the possession of the whole chain.

My role in society, or any artist or poet's role, is to try and express what we all feel. Not to tell people how to feel. Not as a preacher, not as a leader, but as a reflection of us all.

The only honest art form is laughter.

The only honest art form is laughter, comedy. You can't fake it... try to fake three laughs in an hour -- ha ha ha ha ha -- they'll take you away, man. You can't.

Music is my life, it is a reflection of what I go through.

Poetry is alive because it is a medium of vision and experience. It is not necessarily comfortable. It is not necessarily safe.

Euphemisms chosen by fear are a covenant with hypocrisy and will immediately destroy the poem and eventually destroy the poet.

The themes of trauma—man's helplessness, the world's randomness, and ugly, unexpected death—are difficult ones for a person to express in art.

Then I carefully dipped my brush and wrote the characters for family, country, and book. When the examiner smiled, I knew he liked my work, so I decided to write the hardest character I knew, which was the one for virtue. It took fifteen strokes.

At the customary age of thirteen Blake was apprenticed to an engraver named James Basire in Great Queen Street near Covent Garden, less than a mile from home. The apprenticeship lasted for the usual seven years, during which he lived in Basire's house, usually with one or more other boys. The youths put in thirteen-hour days for a work week of seventy-eight hours, with only Sunday off, and that was usual too.

Art is a human activity having for its purpose the transmission to others of the highest and best feelings to which men have risen.

Does not every eternal masterpiece derive from the experience of disgrace, humiliation, wounded pride? The thoughtless mob may wildly applaud a work of art - to me it reveals the devastated mind of its creator. In all the great symphonies of tones, colours and ideas I see a gleam of the marvellous colour trumpet red, a faint reflection of the vision that for a short while raised the Master above the bewildering maze of his tormenting guilt.

The shadkhn was impressing the young woman with the boundless virtues of a female and ended: "And to look at, she's a regular picture!" The young man could not wait for his blind date. But when he accosted the shadkhn the next day, his voice was frosty: "Her eyes are crossed, her nose is crooked, and when she smiles one side of her mouth goes down—" "Just a minute," interrupted the shadkhn. "Is it my fault you don't like Picasso?