Best 22487 quotes in «art quotes» category

I’ve done everything I wanted to do, writing books, learning about things, but I’ve been swindled all the same because it’s never anything more.

I've met artists before who have experienced similar feelings—not feeling worthy of their own work, guilt over an incomplete piece, anxiety about what their fans want and how they might deliver it. It's normal, but that doesn't mean it's always healthy. Eliza, you worth as a person is not dependent on the art you create or what other people think of it.

I’ve more or less finished with the world as narration – the world of novels and films, the world of music as well. I’m now only interested in the world as juxtaposition – that of poetry and painting.

I've never been somewhere I belonged, but there are places where I think I could be happy. Like San Francisco. Well, do art museums count? Because I feel like I belong in them.

I've never kissed an art forger before" Lord Huntington to Eliza Somerton in "An Artful Seduction

I've noticed that everything I'm inspired by the most at this stage is very different from what inspired me when I was younger. There's significantly little romance and significantly more depth. At first I was sad and worried about this. I thought there was something emptied or broken with me for a while, that the experiences of life had really damaged that part of me. But I think I've been misunderstanding the purpose of that. Maybe everything is exactly right with me now for what I have to create. And maybe the best and highest art I can ever make will come from this version of myself.

I've realized I don't need to keep looking for my path. I'm already on it. I just need to trust where it leads.

I walked around and around it, not because I felt I had to, but because I felt like it deserved that much attention from me. I found myself looking at each individual part closely, rather than the entire thing, because if I looked at the entire thing it would be like staring at the sun. It was such an unblinking portrayal of a person that it rose above any hack-neyed hype about it. It flicked away all my cynicism about Seeing Art without flinching and just made me look. I walked out of there thinking, Now I am older.

I want art that makes the world seem more unreal. I want fiction that can crumble the world and build it back into something new.

I want constructive energy generated by every brushstroke and between every line.

I wanted to lead my students to another world, one where people value writing and art more than war, and yet I knew and I know that the only thing that matters is to make that world here. There is no other world. This is the only world we are in. This revisable country, so difficult to change, to easily changed.

I want to create, not kill.

I want to be famous but unknown!

i want to bleed ink and shit prose.

I want to understand the strings that are tied between me and certain other people and if they really can stretch through infinite time and space without ever breaking. Are soul mates real, and is my life ever going to make sense?

I want to make a difference, I want to make a change, inspire a revolution, to create, reinvent, and rearrange.

I want to remind us all that art is dangerous. I want to remind you of the history of artists who have been murdered, slaughtered, imprisoned, chopped up, refused entrance. The history of art, whether it's in music or written or what have you, has always been bloody, because dictators and people in office and people who want to control and deceive know exactly the people who will disturb their plans. And those people are artists. They're the ones that sing the truth. And that is something that society has got to protect. But when you enter that field, no matter whether that's Sonia's poetry or Ta-Nehisi's rather startlingly clear prose, it's a dangerous pursuit. Somebody's out to get you. You have to know it before you start, and do it under those circumstances, because it is one of the most important things that human beings do.

i want to never settle for anything less than my soul on paper.

I want to walk inside a Van Gogh sun, and see a better world all different and new. I want to live where there are no shadows, of all those stupid things we both know that we used to do. I want to walk inside a Van Gogh sun, I want to see the world exactly like you do. I want to live where the past doesn’t matter, Whatever it takes I will never give up on you.

I want you to trust yourself, baby. Love is all that matters and you’ve always known that. You’ve known, since you were a very little girl, what your life is meant to be about…

I was born with the ability to see in metaphor.

I was not out to paint beautiful pictures; even painting good pictures was not important to me. I wanted only to help the truth burst forth.

I was reading about animals a while back and there was this motherfucking scientist in France back in the thirties or forties or whenever the motherfuck it was and he was trying to get apes to draw these pictures, to make art pictures like the kinds of pictures in serious motherfucking paintings that you see in museums and shit. So the scientist keeps showing the apes these paintings and giving them charcoal pencils to draw with and then one day one of the apes finally draws something but it’s not the art pictures that it draws. What it draws is the bars of its own motherfucking cage. Its own motherfucking cage! Man, that's the truth, ain't it?

I was reminded of a painter friend who had started her career by depicting scenes from life, mainly deserted rooms, abandoned houses and discarded photographs of women. Gradually, her work became more abstract, and in her last exhibition, her paintings were splashes of rebellious color, like the two in my living room, dark patches with little droplets of blue. I asked about her progress from modern realism to abstraction. Reality has become so intolerable, she said, so bleak, that all I can paint now are the colors of my dreams.

I was truly happy. But my state was not that of any ordinary satisfaction. It was a joy which stemmed directly from creative, artistic achievement.

I wear the universe backwards. I imagine putting stars in my coffee, and sugar in the sky. I imagine going fishing in clouds, and watching the sun hide behind lakes. I'm too busy dancing with my imagination to even tip toe with reality for a second. They say I'm going mad. They're right.

I watched him carefully. He was making art because he has to, and because he's brave enough to try and make contact, right there on the edge of madness, where he dreams.

I will admit that we as young rebels always wanted fundamentalists to understand our take on their religion, but rarely, if ever, the other way around. The fundamentalists are the real artists. If you saw only a masterpiece of an original painting and someone threw a splash of red across it saying that their version is better, you would be offended too.

I will admit that I wanted to shout for standing on the top of a scaffold in front of a good new wall always goes to my head. It is a sensation something between that of an angel let out of his cage into a new sky and a drunkard turned loose in a royal cellar. And after all, what nobler elevation could you find in this world than the scaffold of a wall painter? No admiral on the bridge of a new battleship designed by the old navy, could feel more pleased with himself than Gulley, on two planks, forty feet above dirt level, with his palette table beside him, his brush in his hand, and the draught blowing up his trousers; cleared for action.

I will always know the glory of the beautiful and rare, as they will know security from labour and prayer. As they will hear the laughter of the children they gave life, I will know the torments of the song born under knife. And to their girls, they will give, while with their sons they'll share; where I will bear a song—a son! The wife of despair.

I will always know the glory of the beautiful and rare, as they will know security from labour and prayer. As they will hear the laughter of the children they gave life, I will know the torments of the song born under knife.

I will dive into my chaos, and my Abyss will turn it into an art scene.

I WILL REJECT DEATH IF I KNOW HAND COME" but ..................... We would not be able to resist the will of god. Whenever, wherever you are. may god is ready to take your life. and honestly death is only the secrets of god almighty one.

I will keep falling deep down into my abyss, until my chaos turns it into an art scene.

I will put my cards on the table. I am an atheist myself. I completely endorse the central doctrine of science. I do not believe in the existence of a Being who lives beyond matter and energy, even if that Being refrains from entering the fray of the physical world. However.... science is not the only avenue for arriving at knowledge... there are interesting and vital questions beyond the reach of test tubes and equations. Obviously, vast territories of the arts concern inner experiences that cannot be analyzed by science. The humanities, such as history and philosophy, raise questions that do not have definite or unanimously accepted answers.

I wish I had a dollar for every time someone said, "Me? No, I'm not creative". I would be gazillionaire. The thing is, that's not really them talking, it's their jerkface inner critic. Okay, so maybe you haven't made anything in a very long time, but that doesn't mean you're not creative. What it means is that, somewhere along the way, you became really good at saying "Me? No, I'm not creative".

I will talk to you of art, For there is nothing else to talk about, For there is nothing else. Life is an obscure hobo, Bumming a ride on the omnibus of art.

I wish I could say we all lived happily ever after. I can't. But I can say we lived. Our love for Nate lives, and he's left us this piece of himself in his art; it was his gift to us. We know him through his art, and I can take comfort in that. I guess the thing about high school is, it's the moment when you start to cross from a being a kid to being an adult, and this journey to know yourself begins. Nate's journey ended to early, and I thought I had to run away to some far-off land to start mine. But, for now, it seems to me that I have enough to explore right here. There's a whole continent to discover in myself, and I know that it's love - love for my parents, my friends, my brother, and my art - that will guide me. Love will be my map.

I wish that love could be broken down the way it breaks me down.

I WISH YOU ALL THE REALITY YOU COULD EVER WANT. HANDLE. WANT.

I wondered why I hadn't realized before that art was hard because you had to recreate not merely the scene but the way it soared into your soul and changed you.

I wonder the world desperate to find the edge of myself… Existence is an art.

linear brains can't curve a thought.

Like the perfect collision of oils on a canvas. She was a walking piece of art. Words and all.

Listen to the sunset...see its pretty hue... When you see it, think of me...and I'll think of you...

Listen within to find shining poetry and hear extraordinary music. You are a work of art.

Listen well, as I speak of my upsurge; For I’m a lover, without a lover I am a flame, without a combustion I am a novice, without a mentor I am a healer, without a wounded I am a winner, without a trophy I’m a captain, without a devotee And above all, I’m alone – not lonely

Literature is painting, architecture, and music.

Literature, although it stands apart by reason of the great destiny and general use of its medium in the affairs of men, is yet an art like other arts. Of these we may distinguish two great classes: those arts, like sculpture, painting, acting, which are representative, or as used to be said very clumsily, imitative; and those, like architecture, music, and the dance, which are self-sufficient, and merely presentative.

Life is like a collage. Its individual pieces are arranged to create harmony. Appreciate the artwork of your life.