Best 239 quotes in «abstract quotes» category

We invoke the sacrifices of our fallen heroes in the abstract, but we seldom take time to thank them individually.

We know how to work certain toys, and if you've got something in your head you know how to get in on tape, even if it's got an abstract sound to it. We are kind of producers as well as a band, so we're a self-contained unit. We can produce our own record as well as write it.

We shall some day catch an abstract truth by the tail, and then we shall have our religion and our immortality.

When money gets too far away from actual, physical, real equity and property it gets too abstract and too distantly derived and then suddenly it's not worth anything anymore. And the same is true of language.

When individuals and nations have once got in their heads the abstract concept of full-blown liberty, there is nothing like it in its uncontrollable strength.

When I conform to truth, I do not conform to an abstract principle; I conform to the nature of God.

When you're working with an object, you can put in almost anything you want, you can make it abstract.

You have to have the time to feel sorry for yourself in order to be a good abstract expressionist.

While those whom devotion to abstract discussions has rendered unobservant of the facts are too ready to dogmatize on the basis of a few observations.

Woman" in the abstract is young, and, we assume, charming. As they get older they pass off the stage, somehow, into private ownership mostly, or out of it altogether.

You have to act and this is something that happened in abstract expressionism too, it was a discovery particularly in De Kooning's paintings, great paintings. There's a lot of speed in his work and the speed produces things that only speed can produce.

You know I dislike slavery; and you fully admit the abstract wrong of it.

Whoever thought the immediate alternates with the immediate action is not an abstract painter.

With abstract work, I never was quite sure what it was that felt right about the painting, but I did know that I responded to it and I liked whatever it was offering me.

Write a paper promising salvation, make it a "structured" something or a "virtual" something, or "abstract," "distributed" or "higher-order" or "applicative" and you can almost be certain of having started a new cult.

Wrong dressed out in pride, pomp, and circumstance has more attraction than abstract right.

You cannot be present in an abstract way. Presence is not about disappearing into nothingness. You can only be present with something that is actually here.

You make knowledge relevant to life and you make it important for children to learn things that will really relate to things going on in their lives, and not abstract.

You're assisting the audience to understand; you're giving them a bridge or an access. And if you don't give them that, if you keep it more abstract, it's almost more pure. It's a cooler thing.

A picture is worth a thousand words, but the way I paint I'm going to need to contact an editor. Even if I were to abstractly paint the phrase "I love you," it would be the visual equivalent of Joyce's Ulysses. -James Lee Schmidt and Jarod Kintz

You've got a lot of time for abstract thought when you've got your hand stuck up a dead badger.

Abstract means literally to draw from or separate. In this sense every artist is abstract.

And what's beyond vastness? It shrinks...

Forgotten Stars. Time in the Flame. Missing Shard. The Only Rain. Door of the Memory. Waves in the Silk. Silent Birch. Thoughts of Lunatics. Secret of the Flowers. Soaring of the Souls. Heart in the Night. And a Kiss Unfolds. Forgotten Voyager. Voyage in the Words. Nothing of the World. Someone of the Hemisphere. Trembling Stones. Sucking Tears. The Next Gift. The World in the Kisses. Missing Angels. The Woman of the Girl. Guardian of the Rings. Thorn in the Pearl. Whispering Sword. Touching exclaim. Soul in the Truth. Heat in the Flame. Thy name, my name, Thy name! Came. Became. To Remain.

Cause sometimes what makes you two is shadow and you.

Do not be afraid of the word 'theory'. Yes, it can sound dauntingly abstract at times, and in the hands of some writers can appear to have precious little to do with the actual, visual world around us. Good theory however, is an awesome thing. [...] But unless we actually use it, it borders on the metaphysical and might as well not be used at all.

Don't allow people to define you based on reading the abstract of your story without even reading chapter 1. Continue to write the remaining chapters.

Certain voices heard are heard not because they are phonetic... But, from one soul they head, to another, in the form of magic. (Poem: When, When a not, Book: Ginger and Honey)

For myself, I favored the abstract. I collected not just obsolete terms and words, but ideas.

From the study of the development of human intelligence, in all directions, and through all times, the discovery arises of a great fundamental law, to which it is necessarily subject, and which has a solid foundation of proof, both in the facts of our organization and in our historical experience. The law is this: that each of our leading conceptions -- each branch of our knowledge -- passes successively through three different theoretical conditions: the theological, or fictitious; the metaphysical, or abstract; and the scientific, or positive. In other words, the human mind, by its nature, employs in its progress three methods of philosophizing, the character of which is essentially different, and even radically opposed: namely, the theological method, the metaphysical, and the positive. Hence arise three philosophies, or general systems of conceptions on the aggregate of phenomena, each of which excludes the others. The first is the necessary point of departure of the human understanding, and the third is its fixed and definitive state. The second is merely a state of transition.

I have a lot of, unfinished poems. And all of them are like, some love affair, that started too quick, and died too young. Each incomplete art to me, is like a memory lane, of an insane passion, that words, couldn't explain, and colors couldn't contain.

He sat up. He smiled. Something heavy and winged took off from his chest. Eleanor hadn’t written him a letter, it was a postcard. Just three words long.

I feel like i am parked diagonally in a parallel universe

I remember sitting in bed, as a child looking up at the ceiling I couldn’t sleep, of course, And so set about to thinking I wondered, what are dreams made of? Are they stardust and galaxies? Are they the tendrils of existence Reaching inwards from eternity?

I know who I was, I can tell you who I may have been, but I am, now, only in this line of words I write.

I’m not very good at giving anyone a clear no.

It is cut, polished; for a breath, it passes between the hands of men

I tried to think these thoughts but they remained intolerably abstract, while a pain in my body told me what was real.

Merry a mind is of a weeping willow roots raising concrete be in fit out all abstract.

I was talking about time. It`s so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it`s just my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it`s not. [...] What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don`t think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. [...] Someday you be walking down the road and you hear something or see something going on. So clear. And you think it`s you thinking it up. A thought picture. But no. It`s when you bump into a rememory that belongs to somebody else.

Linear’s defeated form The intangible reality rise.'' ~ Wanderer

It was in the horizon of existence, that the Big Bang must have created our souls, we loved each other like the plane of time doesn't hold a fleck of control over us.

Not all doors open in the same direction and with the same effort!

Once we name something, you said, we can never see it the same way again. All that is unnameable falls away, gets lost, is murdered. You called this the cookie-cutter function of our minds. You said that you knew this not from shunning language but from immersion in it, on the screen, in conversation, onstage, on the page.

Oh, don't pull your hand away from me, I've promised myself that maybe by the end of this impossible narrative I shall understand, oh maybe it will be on Hell's road that I shall be able to find what we need—but don't pull your hand away, even though I now know that the finding has to come on the road of what we are, if I can succeed in not sinking completely into what we are.

Strange in a familiar way, familiar in a strange way.

Spring days, and summer days, and all sorts of days that would be her own. She breathed a quick prayer that life might be long. It was only yesterday she had thought with a shudder that life might be long.

Sometimes, some of times in life are Lifetime!

Teaching is a dialogue, and it is through the process of engaging students that we see ideas taken from the abstract and played out in concrete visual form. Students teach us about creativity through their personal responses to the limits we set, thus proving that reason and intuition are not antithetical. Their works give aesthetic visibility to mathematical ideas.

The truth is, almost every solid idea that comes from science is in some sense an abstraction rather than a 'real' thing.