Quotes
Quotes about Art
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Rememb'red tolling a departing friend.
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered, And then all this thou seest is but a clod And module of confounded royalty.
"Niagara! wonder of this western world, And half the world beside! hail, beauteous queen Of cataracts!" An angel who had been O'er heaven and earth, spoke thus, his bright wings furled, And knelt to Nature first, on the wild cliff unseen.
Fools-to-free-the-world, they go, Primeval hearts from Buffalo. Red cataracts of France to-day Awake, three thousand miles away, An echo of Niagara The cataract of Niagara.
Night comes, world-jewelled, . . . The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage War with the lines of Darkness; and the moon, Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth After the sun's red sea-death--quietless.
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one: Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done.
Night's black Mantle covers all alike. - Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
I said to the Nightingale: "Hail, all hail! Pierce with thy trill the dark, Like a glittering music-spark, When the earth grows pale and dumb."
Hark! that's the nightingale, Telling the self-same tale Her song told when this ancient earth was young: So echoes answered when her song was sung In the first wooded vale.
Every normal person, in fact, is only normal on the average. His ego approximates to that of the psychotic in some part or other and to a greater or lesser extent.
We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing, since things require a seed to start from. [Lat., Nil igitur fieri de nilo posse putandum es Semine quando opus est rebus.]
A life of nothing's nothing worth, From that first nothing ere his birth, To that last nothing under earth.
A good style must have an air of novelty, at the same time concealing its art.
The earth was made so various, that the mind of desultory man, studious of change, and pleased with novelty, might be indulged.
The Hidden Power of the Heart Realize that now, in this moment of time, you are creating. You are creating your next moment. That is what's real. -Sara Paddison.
Heart presence is about having more of your real self show up in each moment. It's about being mentally, emotionally, and physically present in the heart. We often put so much energy and focus on how we "present" ourselves - the way we appear, what we wear,what we say, what car we drive. If we put a fraction of that energy into how we present ourselves to ourselves on the mental and emotional levels, we can greatly reduce anxiety and increase our vitality. -Doc Childre.
Never part without loving words to think of during your absence. It may be that you will not meet again in life. -John Paul Richter.
There are fine things which you mean to do some day, under what you think will be more favorable circumstances. But the only time that is surely yours is the present, hence this is the time to speak the word of appreciation and sympathy, to do the generous deed, to forgive the fault of a thoughtless friend, to sacrifice self a little more for others. Today is the day in which to express your noblest qualities of mind and heart, to do at least one worthy thing which you have long postponed, and to use your God-given abilities for the enrichment of someone less fortunate. Today you can make your life - significant and worthwhile. The present is yours to do with as you will. -Grenville Kleiser.
The whole is more than the sum of its parts.
Life is made up, not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little things, in which smiles and kindness, and small obligations win and preserve the heart.
Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just, Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust, Trod under foot, the sport of every wind, Swept from the earth and blotted from his mind, There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie, And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty eye.
The observation of nature is part of an artist's life, it enlarges his form [and] knowledge, keeps him fresh and from working only by formula, and feeds inspiration.
Each handicap is like a hurdle in a steeplechase, and when you ride up to it, if you throw your heart over, the horse will go along too.
Let a man practise the profession he best knows. [Lat., Quam quisque novit artem, in hac se exerceat.]
