Quotes About Art

Illusions are art, for the feeling person, and it is by art that we live, if we do.

But a man must live. Not for nothing do we invest so much of ourselves in other people's lives—or even in momentary pictures of people we do not know. It cuts both ways: the happy group inside the lighted window, the figure in long grass in the orchard seen from the train stay and support us in our dark hours. Illusions are art, for the feeling person, and it is by art that we live, if we do.

Wooed by a vivid cover, she picked one up and leafed through it. She loved thee way it smelled, the ink, the fine paper, the oversized photographs.

Inness painted from memory, which is to say that he didn't paint what he saw, but what he remembered. There's a difference. He believed memory was a lens to the soul. It's not the details that matter - the veins on a leaf, say- so much as the implied detail, such as the changing light, the wind, the lone peasant in the distance the sense that something else is going on, some deeper possibilitly ....

Beauty depends on the unseen, George quoted the artist, the visible upon the invisible.

Words are precious things meant to create, to imagine, to dream with.

So are you turning out like them? Do you still write and draw?" "yeah, but I don't do anything personnal or profound. My parents take life way to seriousely. I lke to make people laugh. I had a regular cartoon feature in the school news paper and created some for the year book. Social satire stuff. I've done a couple of political cartoons for wisteria's paper and just got one accepted in Easton's, which has a much bigger circulation. Impressed?

I wonder why you see him and I hear him," Will said. "You hear him?" Ivy reached over and switched off the motor. "You hear him?" "So does Beth." Ivy's mouth dropped open. "She writes stories with messages that aren't hers. I draw angels I don't mean to draw.

I say that almost everywhere there is beauty enough to fill a person's life if one would only be sensitive to it. but Henry says No: that broken beauty is only a torment, that one must have a whole beauty with man living in relation to it to have a rich civilization and art. . . . Is it because I am a woman that I accept what crumbs I may have, accept the hot-dog stands and amusement parks if I must, if the blue is bright beyond them and the sunset flushes the breasts of sea birds?

But the point is that I didn't want this book to depict events with any accuracy. I am a fan of whatever you want to call this category of fiction in which authors use their real names for their character names.

I was a 16-year-old girl at one point, so of course I wrote poetry.

Someday she planned to paint he ceiling: Blue, with gold stars on it, whole constellations, and a section of the Milky Way.

Writing is no dying art form in America because most published writers here accept the wisdom and the necessity of encouraging the talent that follows in their footsteps.

Genius creates from the heart and when the artifact is broken so is the heart.

Like all creators, he knew well that strange feeling of movement within the spirit, comparable only to the first movement of the child within the womb, which causes the victim to say perhaps with excitement, perhaps with exasperation or exhaustion, "There is a new poem, a new picture, a new symphony coming, heaven help me." The movement had been unusually strong when he first knew about this clock.

Art proper, in other words, emerges when sensation can detach itself and gain an autonomy from its creator and its perceiver when something of the chaos from which it is drawn can breathe and have a life of its own

Gustav's art isn't political," I said. "You of all people should know that." "All art is political. You of all people should know that.

For the hackneyed art of lying without injury to anyone, Rushbrook, to his shame, was proficient.

conducting in a church in London where, he said,

It was about three feet wide and stippled

I believe in walking out of a museum before the paintings you've seen begin to run together. How else can you carry anything away with you in your mind's eye?

Judex (Matthäus Richter), like many others who wrote about printing, was puzzled why the invention was unknown for so long. He concluded that the art was only revealed to mankind at the very time that God had chosen for unmasking the anti-Christ.

I told him that I apologised, that I understood, but really: I am not a museum, not yet, I'm a love letter, a love letter.

Art is despair with dignity.