Quotes About Art

This proves that great lyric poetry can die, be reborn, die again, but will always remain one of the most outstanding creations of the human soul.

Poetry is not an assertion of truth, but the making of that truth more fully real to us.

Poetry is, first and last, language - the rest is filler.

We are surrounded by poetry on all sides.

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.

Wine is bottled poetry.

Poetry is about the grief. Politics is about the grievance.

Writing poetry is the hard manual labor of the imagination.

They see poetry in what I have done. No. I apply my methods, and that is all there is to it.

Poetry has been the longest pleasure of my life.

Prose is walking; poetry is flying

Nothing is so improving to the temper as the study of the beauties either of poetry, eloquence, music, or painting.

Poetry is the apotheosis of sentiment.

Poetry can communicate the actual quality of experience with a subtlety and precision unapproachable by any other means.

Poetry is music written for the human voice.

As music is the poetry of sound, so is painting the poetry of sight and the subject-matter has nothing to do with harmony of sound or of color.

Poetry is a lyrical insinuation. Often, its melodic subtlety kisses the subconscious mind.

Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.

The dance can reveal everything mysterious that is hidden in music, and it has the additional merit of being human and palpable. Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.

Be aroused by poetry; structure yourself with propriety, refine yourself with music.

A poem should not mean but be.

Any work that is not rooted in myth and poetry or that does not partake of the depth and essence of the universe is merely a ghost.

In general, in poetry and literature, I am among those people who believe that too much is indispensable.

Best believe that needle hurt you Best to see these true colors Than follow one of your false virtues A little secret to make you think: Why is the crazy stuff we never say, poetry in ink?