It was surely one thing to respect the Dark Arts as a dangerous enemy, another to speak of them with a loving caress in his voice?
It might feel like the end of the world-- but it's the beginning of your art.
He showed videotape of himself committing acts of self-violence and informing news crews that he had been assaulted by a marauding mob of irate art historians.
This was never about the money... Don't you understand? A world without good art is a far more dangerous place than one you don't get paid for making it in.
There was an art to living, and sometimes it required the inexorable, relentless resolve just to keep plowing forward, one step at a time, no matter what the hell it was you were doing.
The art does not always mimic the artist. You never know the real person until you slide beneath their surface
Sympathy compounded of liking and compassion in varying proportions evidently seemed to Jane Austen the most natural inventive to imaginative interest in a character.
The sole agents, indeed, in the action of her novels are individual human beings. And the comedy is the outcome of their making fools of themselves and of one another.
Reality is an aspect of property. It must be seized. And investigative journalism is the noble art of seizing reality back from the powerful.
Religion is like an art gallery. One painting will speak to you more than another, and there's no need to explain or defend your taste.
Music, of all the arts, stands in a special region, unlit by any star but its own, and utterly without meaning ... except its own.
Poetry and art nourish the soul of the world with the flavor-filled substances of beauty, wisdom and truth.
All we have, it seems to me, is the beauty of art and nature and life, and the love which that beauty inspires.
Wither thou goest, there goest I, two flames sparked from but one ember; both forward and backward doth time fly, wither thou art, remember.
Anyone can put paint on a canvas, but only a true master can bring the painting to life. Anyone can kill, but only a genius can make murder an art.
Emotion is always multiplied in the art of a person who doesn't really show much emotion. It once expanded deep within his hidden soul, and following the downplay his audience is blown away.
Death is no enemy, but the foundation of gratitude, sympathy, and art. Of all life's pleasures, only love owes no debt to death.
Art isn't life, you know. It if were, the world would go up in flames. It's artifice. By definition. ("Talking In The Dark")
Art is what gets us beyond what is real. It makes reality more real. It also shortens the distance we gotta travel to see how connected we are.
A woman brings so much more to the world than birth, for she can birth discovery, intelligence, invention, art, just as well as any man.
I refuse to consider Art a drain-pipe for passion, a kind of chamberpot, a slightly more elegant substitute for gossip and confidences. No, no! Genuine poetry is not the scum of the heart.
