Quotes About Art

Hundreds of men, struggling and dying by the hellish glare of burning torches, of burning missiles, of burning houses. Friendly could hardly believe it was real. It all looked, false, fake, a model staged for a lurid painting. "The breach at Visserine." he whispered to himself, framing the scene with his hands and imagining it hanging on some rich man's wall.

You want to paint this?' 'Future generations might never believe it happened.' She blew some yellow hair out of her face with a smoky breath and went back to sketching, charcoal hissing on paper. 'Then it might happen again.

Dali had a good sense of humor - obviously you could tell just looking at him he was funny.

Anyone who sees clearly sees chaos everywhere. Art is a way of temporarily setting order to confusion. Temporary and incomplete; that's why we never run out of new art. Anyone who comes to the tools of art without that sense of confusion is an invader.

She liked things that had been written by people who had lived short, ugly, and tragic lives. Or, who at least, were English.

Thirty years of overlapping graffiti covered the walls. The individual messages were mostly incoherent, but then perhaps the individual messages were of no importance. It seemed to Ig that all such messages were the same at heart: I Am; I Was; I Want to Be.

It is my belief that, as a rule, creatures of Happy's ilk—I am thinking here of canines and men both—more often run free than live caged, and it is in fact a world of mud and feces they desire, a world with no Art in it, or anyone like him, a place where there is no talk of books or God or the worlds beyond this world, a place where the only communication is the hysterical barking of starving and hate-filled dogs.

He felt that when his little men were painted well, they possessed a tension, a suggestion that they might, at any moment, begin to move on their own and charge the French line.

The best works of art have a tendency to fall through time differently than human beings. They remember, but they also anticipate. A good piece can mean different things to different people at different times, and all of those meanings are true, even if they contradict one another.

When she wasn't painting, when she didn't have creative work to occupy her, she became aware of a growing physical apprehension, like she was standing beneath a crane that was holding a piano aloft; at any moment she felt that the cables could snap and all that weight could fall upon her with a fatal crash.

It is in fact a world of mud and faeces they desire, a world with no Art in it, or anyone like him, a place where there is no talk of books or God or the worlds beyond this world, a place where the only communication is the hysterical barking of starving and hate-filled dogs.

Zen in the Art of Writing by Ray Bradbury

the truth about music: that it was the third rail of life. You grabbed it to shock yourself out of the dull drag of hours, to feel something, to burn with all the emotions you didn't get to experience in the ordinary run of school and TV and loading the dishwasher after dinner.

She was a cartoonist, not an engineer; reality could get stuffed.

Great writers say things that are so beautiful, the very act of repeating them makes life itself more beautiful.

Happy art is shallow. Sad art is deep.

Far as I knew, closest she'd gotten to art was a drafting table and dressing mannequins in store windows, and the closest I'd gotten to saving the world was my name on some petitions, for everything from recycling aluminum cans to saving the whales. I put my cans in the trash now, and I didn't know how the whales we're doing.

In 6,000 years of storytelling, [people have] gone from depicting hunting on cave walls to depicting Shakespeare on Facebook walls.

Good design is obvious. Great design is transparent.

Art is bad when 'you see the intent and get put off.' (Goethe) In Tolstoy one is unaware of the intent, and sees only the thing itself. from the book, On Retranslating A Russian Classic Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

For the most part I felt nothing but scorn for an art form that required the pretense that it was natural for people to communicate with one another in rhymed song.

This listening is the art of meditation, in the learning of which we come to a place of transition where truth leaves the mind and enters the heart. In other words, there is no longer merely an intellectual knowledge about truth; but truth becomes a living thing within our being.

This listening is the art of meditation

It's like a letter-writing society. They approach it like poetry. Not all of it is rebellious, some of it is quite beautiful. Just art, from kids who live in a world where they'll likely never see art. At least not officially.