Quotes
Quotes about Art
But one thing is needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part which shall not be taken away from her.
Did not our heart burn within us while he talked with us?
Let not your heart be troubled.
We know in part, and we prophesy in part.
The first man is of the earth, earthy.
Middle wall of partition.
Set your affections on things above, not on things on the earth.
And the day star arise in your hearts.
The noble army of martyrs.
The kindly fruits of the earth.
To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.
Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection.
Art and part.
Art preservative of all arts.
Cockles of the heart.
Consistency, thou art a jewel.
New departure.
I'm summoned by the fields and hills, The shady maples in the garden, The bank of the deserted burn, The liberties the country offers. Give me your hand. I will return At the beginning of October: We'll drink together once again, And o'er our cups of friendly candor Discuss a dozen gentlemen-- We'll talk of fools and wicked gentry, And those with flunkey's souls from birth, And sometimes of the Tsar of Heaven, And sometimes of the one on earth.
On our earth we can truly love only with suffering and through suffering! We know not how to love otherwise. We know no other love. I want suffering in order to love.
"But, Rome, 'tis alone, with awful sway, to rule Mankind; and make the world obey; Disposing peace, and War, thy own Majestick Way. To tame the Proud, the fetter'd Slave to free; These are Imperial Arts, and worthy thee." -Anchises to Aeneas in the Underworld
Every grain of experience is food for the greedy growing soul of the artist
In every major artist there seems to be a conflict between the urge to swallow everything and the desire to select and shape
All art preserves mysteries which aeshetic philosophers tackle in vain
So cunning is the art that the substantial masses lead the eye to him, and he is nothing, the expandable, the faceless. He needs no face, being about to die.
A horse is as it were an extension of man, ergo part of him. We are all centaurs.
