You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Every great work of art has two faces, one toward its own time and one toward the future, toward eternity.
Every great work of art has two faces, one toward its own time and one toward the future, toward eternity.
There is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.
There is nothing worse than a sharp image of a fuzzy concept.
No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist.
No great artist ever sees things as they really are. If he did, he would cease to be an artist.
To send light into the darkness of men's hearts - such is the duty of the artist.
To send light into the darkness of men's hearts - such is the duty of the artist.
The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. read more
The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep.
Thurber did not write the way a surgeon operates, he wrote the way a child skips rope, the way a read more
Thurber did not write the way a surgeon operates, he wrote the way a child skips rope, the way a mouse waltzes.
The artist one day falls through a hole in the brambles, and from that moment he is following the dark read more
The artist one day falls through a hole in the brambles, and from that moment he is following the dark rapids of an underground river which may sometimes flow so near to the surface that the laughing picnic parties are heard above.
You know... that a blank wall is an apalling thing to look at. The wall of a museum - a read more
You know... that a blank wall is an apalling thing to look at. The wall of a museum - a canvas - a piece of film - or a guy sitting in front of a typewriter. Then, you start out to do something - that vague thing called creation. The beginning strikes awe within you.
Fine art, that exists for itself alone, is art in a final state of impotence. If nobody, including the artist, read more
Fine art, that exists for itself alone, is art in a final state of impotence. If nobody, including the artist, acknowledges art as a means of knowing the world, then art is relegated to a kind of rumpus room of the mind and the irresponsibility of the artist and the irrelevance of art to actual living becomes part and parcel of the practice of art.