Quotes About Art

Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.

He had been painting all day, and the spring was in his blood like a madness.

She's sweet on Wagner. I think she'd die for Beethoven. she loves the way Puccini lays down a tune, and Verdi's always creeping from her room.

Maybe I should tell her that things without a meaning are the most beautiful ones

Beautiful writing becomes beautiful when it loses its harmony and has the desperate power of the ugly.

the elegant jump from malicious gossip to compliment, seemed to me so very successful that I thought of adult normality precisely as an art of that type.

Parole: con quelle si fa e si disfa come si vuole.

That last phrase, the elegant jump from malicious gossip to compliment, seemed to me so very successful that I thought of adult normality precisely as an art of that type. I had something to learn.

There is this presumption, in those who feel destined for art and above all literature: we act as if we had received an investiture, but in fact no one has invested us with anything, it is we who have authorized ourselves to be authors.

You wanted to write novels, I created a novel with real people, with real blood, in reality.

Para escrever é preciso desejar que alguma coisa sobreviva a ti

Há essa presunção em quem se sente predestinado às artes, sobretudo à literatura: trabalha-se como alguém que tivesse recebido uma investidura, mas de fato ninguém jamais nos investiu de coisa nenhuma, fomos nós que demos a nós mesmos a autorização para sermos autores, mas lamentamos quando os outros dizem: essa ninharia que você fez não me interessa, aliás, me entedia, quem lhe deu o direito.

L'oscenità, concluse, non è estranea alla buona letteratura e l'arte vera del racconto, se pure passa il limite della decenza, non è mai scabrosa.

As coisas que não fazem sentido são as mais belas

things without meaning are the most beautiful ones. It's

Carracci's possessions, she, too, was Carracci's possession.

There is this presumption, in those who feel destined for art and above all literature: we act as if we had received an investiture, but in fact no one has ever invested us with anything, it is we who have authorized ourselves to be authors and yet we are resentful if others say: This little thing you did doesn't interest me, in fact it bores me, who gave you the right. (p.463)

Maybe I should tell her that things without meaning are the most beautiful ones. It's a good sentence, she'll like it.

Without reserve, I can say that my entire identity is in the books I write.

Reality can't stay inside the elegant moulds of art; it always spills over, indecorously.

I don't want to accept an idea of life where the success of the self is measured by the success of the written page.

I wrote my book to free myself from it, not to be its prisoner.

Reality can't stay inside the elegant moulds of art; it always spills over, indecorously. An enemy may simply be someone who, out of a sort of emotional exhaustion, has avoided the effort, the complexity, the pleasure - all the ambiguities of friendship.

It seemed to me - articulated in words of today - that not only did she know how to put things well but she was developing a gift that I was already familiar with: more effectively than she had as a child, she took the facts and in a natural way charged them with tension; she intensified reality as she reduced it to words, she injected with energy. But I also realized, with pleasure, that, as soon as she began to do this, I felt able to do the same, and I tried and it came easily.