Quotes
Quotes about Art
Authors--essayist, atheist, novelist, realist, rhymester, play your part,
Paint the mortal shame of nature with the living hues of art.
Who can fancy warless men?
Warless? war will die out late then. Will it ever? late or soon?
Can it, till this outworn earth be dead as yon dead world the moon?
Is there evil but on earth? or pain in every peopled sphere?
To do him any wrong was to beget
A kindness from him, for his heart was rich--
Of such fine mould that if you sowed therein
The seed of Hate, it blossomed Charity.
Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day:
Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away,
To sleep! to sleep!
Sleep, mournful heart, and let the past be past:
Sleep, happy soul, all life will sleep at last.
None can truly write his single day,
And none can write it for him upon earth.
A good woman is a wondrous creature, cleaving to the right and to the good under all change: lovely in youthful comeliness, lovely all her life long in comeliness of heart.
Better trust all, and be deceived,
And weep that trust and that deceiving,
Than doubt one heart, that if believed
Had blessed one's life with true believing.
Our Country,--whether bounded by the St. John's and the Sabine, or however otherwise bounded or described, and be the measurements more or less,--still our Country, to be cherished in all our hearts, to be defended by all our hands.
There are no points of the compass on the chart of true patriotism.
O hearts that break and give no sign
Save whitening lip and fading tresses!
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
One flag, one land, one heart, one hand,
One Nation evermore!
If we are only as the potter's clay
Made to be fashioned as the artist wills,
And broken into shards if we offend
The eye of Him who made us, it is well.
The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and every town or city.
For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years,
Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.
Then sing as Martin Luther sang,
As Doctor Martin Luther sang,
"Who loves not wine, woman and song,
He is a fool his whole life long."
The right honorable gentleman [Robert Lowe, Viscount Sherbrooke] is the first of the new party who has retired into his political cave of Adullam and he has called about him everyone that was in distress and everyone that was discontented.
Whatever was required to be done, the Circumlocution Office was beforehand with all the public departments in the art of perceiving HOW NOT TO DO IT.
Be sure that God
Ne'er dooms to waste the strength he deigns impart.
In the morning of the world,
When earth was nigher heaven than now.
What's come to perfection perishes.
Things learned on earth we shall practise in heaven;
Works done least rapidly Art most cherishes.
Italy, my Italy!
Queen Mary's saying serves for me
(When fortune's malice
Lost her Calais):
"Open my heart, and you will see
Graved inside of it ‘Italy.'"
How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ
All the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!
O woman-country!wooed not wed,
Loved all the more by earth's male-lands,
Laid to their hearts instead.
