Quotes About Interpretation

Irresponsibility is part of the pleasure of all art; it is the part the schools cannot recognize.

Her only flair is in her nostrils.

The problem with a popular art form is that those who want something more are in a hopeless minority compared with the millions who are always seeing it for the first time, or for the reassurance and gratification of seeing the conventions fulfilled again.

at that time on the walls at home we had five or six large, very bold paintings of scenes of Stuart working on the dustbins with the regular workmen. I'm sure Tracy Emin could interpret that. He loved that job, the team spirit of the older men. It was a lowly work holiday job but he really enjoyed it.

Don't waste time with explanations: people only hear what they want to hear.

One cannot conceive of objectivity without subjectivity.

Each, however, as he revolves about "his" truth, feels threatened if that truth is questioned. Thus, each considers anything that is not "his" truth a lie.

Ler, não é caminhar sobre as letras, mas interpretar o mundo e poder lançar sua palavra sobre ele, interferir no mundo pela ação.

language is never neutral

Reading is not walking on the words; it's grasping the soul of them.

It is not I who mix the colors but your own vision,' he answered. 'I only place them next to one another on the wall in their natural state; it is the observer who mixes the colors in his own eye, like porridge. Therein lies the secret. The better the porridge, the better the painting, but you cannot make good porridge from bad buckwheat. Therefore, faith in seeing, listening, and reading is more important than faith in painting, singing, or writing.

Me gustan los escritores que hablan sobre el hecho de escribir y citan continuamente frases de otros autores

In this treacherous world Nothing is the truth nor a lie. Everything depends on the color Of the crystal through which one sees it

Simón manejaba bien. Me fijé porque Vicky dice que mira cómo maneja un tipo y sabe cómo coge.

Es uno el que está atento solo a las cosas que le competen y entonces recorta del infinito caos cotidiano justo lo que lo interpela?

El enamorado es como el paranoico, cree que todo le habla a él. Las canciones de la radio, las películas, el horóscopo, los volantes de la calle…

The parent of a child, as Deborah Tannen has written, has the power not only to create the world the child lives in but the ability to dictate how that world is to be interpreted. Seen from that point of view, one of the lasting and important legacies of a mean mother is a wellspring of self-doubt. The other, explained by adaptive behavior, is a need to replicate the relationship she has to her mother with other people, regardless of how unhappy it makes her.

As Adrienne Rich so acutely observed, "It is hard to write about my own mother. Whatever I do write, it is my story I am telling, my version of the past. If she were to tell her own story, other landscapes would be revealed. But in my landscape or hers, there would be old, smoldering patches of deep-burning anger.

She seemed to like best my daughter, Pegeen's, paintings, thought when I made the observation that the people in Pegeen's paintings, strangely enough, never seem to be engaged in any conversation with each other, all going their own ways, Mrs. Luce replied, 'Maybe they have nothing to say.

She seemed to like best my daughter, Pegeen's, paintings, though when I made the observation that the people in Pegeen's paintings, strangely enough, never seem to be engaged in any conversation with each other, all going their own ways, Mrs. Luce replied, 'Maybe they have nothing to say.

The door opened. "We're here," said Mrs. Rogers. Aunt Myra came in. "Now!" said Amelia Bedelia. "Greetings, greetings, greetings," said the three children. "What's that about?" said Mrs. Rogers. "You said to greet Aunt Myra with Carols," said Amelia Bedelia. "Here's Carol Lee, Carol Green, and Carol Lake." "What lovely Carols," said Aunt Myra. "Thank you.

No two people see the external world in exactly the same way. To every separate person a thing is what he thinks it is -- in other words, not a thing, but a think.

To every separate person a thing is what he thinks it is – in other words, not a thing, but a think.

History is a slippery business; the past is not a constant but a landscape that mutates according to argument and opinion.