Quotes About Interpretation

In her parents' house, things had been good or bad, right or wrong, useful or wasteful. There had been nothing in between. Here, she found, everything had nuance; everything had an unrevealed side or unexplored depths. Everything was worth looking at more closely.

You weren't wrong, Margaret said at last. You weren't wrong. But neither was Marie. A small tug at a complicated knot that would take generations to unpick.

Later, when Moody saw the finished photos, he thought at first that Pearl looked like a delicate fossil, something caught for millennia in the skeleton belly of a prehistoric beast. Then he thought she looked like an angel resting with her wings spread out behind her. And then, after a moment, she looked simply like a girl asleep in a lush green bed, waiting for her lover to lie down beside her.

The photos stirred feelings she couldn't quite frame in words, and this, she decided, must mean they were true works of art.

Poems of Akhmatova, selected and translated by Stanley Kunitz and Max Hayward, gives

Na casa de Pauline e Mal, nada era simples. Na casa dos pais de Mia, as coisas eram boas ou ruins, certas ou erradas, úteis ou desnecessárias. Não havia meio-termo. Ali ela descobriu que tudo tinha nuance, um lado não revelado ou profundidades inexploradas. Tudo merecia ser analisado com mais atenção.

Now it was her turn to study Mrs. Richardson, as if the key to understanding her were coded into her face.

For her the magic was not what words had been, but what they were capable of: their ability to sketch, with one sweeping brushstroke, the contours of an experience, the form of a feeling.

Anything had potential to transform, and this, to her, seemed the true meaning of art.

You could figure out anything about a person if you just tried hard enough.

Later, slowly, they will piece together other things that have never been said.

For Mia, Moody learned, did not consider herself a photographer. Photography, at its heart, was about documentation, and he soon understood that for Mia photography was simply a tool, which she used as a painter might use a brush or a knife.

Maybe she was making a mountain out of her mother.

Modernleri büyüleyen, Yunanistan'?n en az apolloncu yönü kadar dionizoscu yönü de olmu?tur. Üç yüzy?ld?r, Eski Yunan mitoslar?n? yeni ba?tan yorumluyor Avrupa; Avrupal? yazarla­r? büyüleyen, bu mitoslar?n ilkel ve ha?in taraflar?. Yunan ve Latin edebiyatlanna ancak ?u manada klasik demek yerindedir: mekteplerde okutulurlar ve her zaman tazedirler.

A book is sent out into the world, and there is no way of fully anticipating the responses it will elicit. Consider the responses called forth by the Bible, Homer, Shakespeare - let alone contemporary poetry or a modern novel.

Art begins . . . when someone interprets, when someone sees the world through his own eyes. Art happens when what is seen becomes mixed with the inside of the person who is seeing it.

we all tend to see what we are looking for.

It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.

All great poets become naturally, fatally, critics.

What is art? Prostitution.

It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.

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.

The world only goes round by misunderstanding.

Art is not a sack race.