Quotes About Creation

Nothing arrives on paper as it started, and so much arrives that never started at all. To write is always to rave a little, even if one did once know what one meant.

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

La civilización no me impresionó. En todas partes la mejor aportación del hombre a la creación me parecía tan lamentablemente insuficiente como las palabras que tengo para describirla.

How arrogant we are to think the survival of any life that begins in our shadow depends upon our continuing physical presence. Indeed our shadow too often stands between the new life we create- in whatever form- and the sun's life-giving rays.

Believe instead in love. It is my faith that love shaped the universe as you shape your clocks, delighting in creation. I believe that just as you wish to give me your clock in love, refusing payment, so God loves me and gave Himself for me. That is my faith. I cannot presume to force it upon you, I can only ask you in friendship to consider it.

I think God creates what one might call spiritual families, people who may or may not be physically related to each other, but who will travel together the whole of the way. And it's a long way.

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

It was not the size of things that mattered but their perfection, it was not what one had that was important, but what one made.

He supposed he was one of those unfortunates born with a great capacity for suffering.... He opened his eyes a moment and they were dark with fear, for only one race was run as yet and there might be many others.... Then his newborn courage came back to him and he accepted his suffering as the price he must pay for the gift of creation that was his. And suffering, he had discovered, could be the gateway to renewal, than which no more glorious experience can be man's on earth.

Life's very like a husband you know, my dear; it makes you bring forth fruit.

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

You build a character, a shell, and if you build it right, something comes to live inside it.

They had created themselves together, and they always saw themselves, their youth, their love, their lost youth and lost love, their failures and memories, as a sort of living fiction.

Now, my novel begins. No, now I begin my novel—and yet I cannot decide whether to call myself I or she.

A garden always has a point.

That's Lucifer's heresy—that God didn't make the world, only found it. And that when He made angels it was an attempt to discover how people worked by copying them.

4. God made angels. Angels are, broadly speaking, copies of humans, whom God did not make.

It is believed that One Tree Island was created during a particularly vicious storm that occurred some four thousand years ago. (As one geologist who has studied the place put it to me, "You wouldn't have wanted to be there when that happened.")

If there is danger in the human trajectory, it is not so much in the survival of our own species as in the fulfillment of the ultimate irony of organic evolution: that in the instant of achieving self-understanding through the mind of man, life has doomed its most beautiful creations. —E. O. WILSON

What if our myths and teaching tales had purposely led humanity to believe that it was the ultimate sign of strength to nurture and love? What if the urge to care for children and nature and each other had been chosen as the most important tasks of any society? What if care as opposed to conquest had been the marker of virility? What if resources were granted to the people most skilled at peace making, healing, creating and opposed to those with brute strength and a pension for violence?

The rocks fell where she laid them with a faint flat sound, and the afternoon seemed very still back of the dove calls and the cries of the plovers, back of a faint dying phrase, 'in the time of man'.

Fall, winter, fall; for he, Prompt hand and headpiece clever, Has woven a winter robe, And made of earth and sea His overcoat forever, And wears the turning globe.

You can't wreck anything. You only make things great.