For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us; . . .
Earth proudly wears the Parthenon As best gem upon her zone.
Architecture is the art of how to waste space.
In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the gods see everywhere.
The architect Built his great heart into these sculptured stones, And with him toiled his children, and their lives Were builded, with his own, into the walls, As offerings unto God.
Ah, to build, to build! That is the noblest of all the arts.
Anon, out of the earth a fabric huge Rose, like an exhalation.
How agree the kettle and the earthen pot together?
The best way I know of to win an argument is to start by being in the right.
The difficult part in an argument is not to defend one's opinion but rather to know it.
Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
No work of art is worth the bones of a Pomeranian Grenadier.
Now nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they being both the servants of his providence. Art is the perfection of nature. Were the world now as it was the sixth day, there were yet a chaos. Nature hath made one world, and art another. In brief, all things are artificial; for nature is the art of God.
It is the glory and good of Art, That Art remains the one way possible Of speaking truth, to mouths like mine at least.
All the arts which belong to polished life have some common tie, and are connect as it were by some relationship. [Lat., Etenim omnes artes, quae ad humanitatem pertinent, habent quoddam commune vinculum, et quasi cognatione quadam inter se continentur.]
Art, as far as it is able, follow nature, as a pupil imitates his master; thus your art must be, as it were, God's grandchild. [It., L'arte vostra quella, quanto puote, Seque, come il maestro fa il discente; Si che vostr'arte a Dio quasi e nipote.]
Art for art's sake. [Lat., Ars gratia artis.]
There is an art of reading, as well as an art of thinking, and an art of writing.
All passes, Art alone Enduring stays to us; The Bust out-lasts the throne,-- The coin, Tiberius.
The conscious utterance of thought, by speech or action, to any end, is art.
High art alone is eternal and the bust outlives the city. [Fr., L'Art supreme Seule a l'eternite Et le buste Survit la cite.]
As all Nature's thousands changes But one changeless God proclaim; So in Art's wide kingdom ranges One sole meaning still the same: This is Truth, eternal Reason, Which from Beauty takes its dress, And serene through time and season Stands aye in loveliness.
His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland; Still born to improve in every part, His pencil out faces, his manners are heart.
The perfection of an art consists in the employment of a comprehensive system of laws, commensurate to every purpose within its scope, but concealed from the eye of the spectator; and in the production of effects that seem to flow forth spontaneously, as though uncontrolled by their influence, and which are equally excellent, whether regarded individually, or in reference to the proposed result.
Art [of healing] is long, but life is fleeting. [Lat., Art longa, vita brevis est.]