Quotes About Creation

Tu m'as donné ta boue et j'en ai fait de l'or

the way to create art is to burn and destroy ordinary concepts and to substitute them with new truths that run down from the top of the head and out of the heart

Hey baby, when I write, I'm the hero of my shit.

the price of creation is never too high. the price of living with other people always is.

Somebody at one of these places asked me: What do you do? How do you write, create? You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like it's looks, you make a pet out of it.

but as God said, crossing his legs, I see where I have made plenty of poets but not so very much poetry.

where some god pissed a rain of reason to make things grow only to die

I can see where creation often stops while the body still lives and often does not care to. the death of life before life dies.

I've found out why men sign their names to their works- not that they created them but more than the others did not.

A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make-believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.

I emit, I hiss a rather tired and gentle word like shit, then tear this page from the machine. it's your.

Mëso të mos e shkatërrosh me fjalë atë çfarë ke ndërtuar me heshtje.

miracle I have just listened to this symphony which Mozart dashed off in one day and it had enough wild and crazy joy to last forever, whatever forever is Mozart came as close as possible to that.

It made me feel good to write about the Baron. A man needed somebody. There wasn't anybody around, so you had to make up somebody, make him up to be like a man should be. It wasn't make- believe or cheating. The other way was make-believe and cheating: living your life without a man like him around.

We are hardly ever as that which we create

Maybe I'll write a novel, I thought. And then I did.

it's as if he were hiding in there and I want to console him, say: "I am sorry, poor fellow, but creation has its limits.

if death is so fearful then life must be good? dandy then, babe, genuinely traginew, and I've found out why men sign their names to their works— not that they created them but more than the others did not.

Creation is like anything else good: You have to wait on it; ambition has killed more Artists than indolence.

wszystko jest stratÄ… czasu, chyba ?e czÅ'owiek pieprzy siÄ™ w najlepsze, tworzy w najlepsze, ma siÄ™ jak najlepiej albo zmierza w kierunku uÅ'udy pod tytuÅ'em miÅ'o?? i szcz??cie. Wszyscy koÅ"czymy w gnojówce pora?ki - czy nazwiemy to Å›mierciÄ… czy bÅ'Ä™dem.

the people come into the bar night after night for the same old show which he will one day end alone blowing his brains to the walls. the price of creation is never too high. the price of living with other people always is.

So many people are doomed by their ambition and their gathered intelligence, their bank account and savings and loan intelligence. If there is any secret to life, that secret is not to try. Let it come to you: women, dogs, death, and creation.

God, I thought, what about the writer? The writer was the blood and bones and brains (or lack of same) in these creatures. The writer made their hearts beat, gave them words to speak, made them live or die, anything he wanted. And where was the writer? Who ever photographed the writer? Who applauded? But just as well and damn sure just as well: the writer was where he belonged: in some dark corner, watching.

how to do it" will never create an Art, it will never shake the old skin, it will never get us out of here.