Famous Quotes Ipsum

Artistic growth is, more than it is anything else, a refining of the sense of truthfulness. the stupid believe that to be truthful is easy; only the artist, the great artist, knows how difficult it is. she walks in beauty, like the night / of cloudless climes and starry skies; / and all that's best of dark and bright / meet in her aspect and her eyes: / thus mellow'd to that tender light / which heaven to gaudy day denies the feeling of sunday is the same everywhere: heavy, melancholy, standing still. like when they say, 'as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be; world without end.' music has been in my heart all the time, and poetry in my thoughts. hollywood is a place where they'll pay you 50,000 dollars for a kiss and 50 cents for your soul. in memory, everything seems to happen to music. if i had a formula for bypassing trouble, i wouldn't pass it around. wouldn't be doing anybody a favor. trouble creates a capacity to handle it. i don't say embrace trouble. that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. but i do say, meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it. 'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. i wish you could invent some means to make me at all happy without you. every hour i am more and more concentrated in you; every thing else tastes like chaff in my mouth. i must pack my short life full of interesting events and creative activity. philosophy and aesthetic contemplation are not enough. i intend to do everything possible to broaden my experiences and allow myself to reach the fullest development..

Poetry does not necessarily have to be beautiful to stick in the depths of our memory. it was only the first of many occasions during those months that seemed to take place out of time, or in a historical moment i had yet to identify. with our thoughts, we make the world. maybe that's what bravery is, a stronger fear of not being brave. the realization that he was utterly powerless was like the blow of a sledgehammer, yet it was curiously as well. no one was forcing him into a decision. my religion is very simple. my religion is kindness. my piano is a universe. those eighty-eight keys arrange the seven planets in musical scales, an aural cosmos..

Lolita is famous, not i. i am an obscure, doubly obscure, novelist with an unpronounceable last name. words do not express thoughts very well. they always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish. a day is a miniature eternity. music has been in my heart all the time, and poetry in my thoughts. she thought now of the pink anemones waving in that water. like herself, when he'd first spied on her with her sensitive, fleshy tentacles of thought waving all around her, until he'd touched and made her draw up quickly into a stony fist. but he knew just how to touch her, speak to her, breathe on her, to draw her out again. physical pleasure was such a convincing illusion, and sex, the ultimate charade of safety. it is wrong, then, to chide the novel for being fascinated by mysterious coincidences (like the meeting of anna, vronsky, the railway station and death, or the meeting of beethoven, tomas, tereza, and the cognac), but it is right to chide man for being blind to such coincidences in his daily life. for he thereby deprives his life of a dimension of beauty. i have full cause of weeping, but this heart shall break into a hundred thousand flaws ere i'll weep. watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever. interesting that the beliefs of others are labeled mere superstitions, mr. todd. ours we call religion. all humanity is passion; without passion, religion, history, novels, art would be ineffectual. i am young. i am younger each year at the first snow. when i see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving; then i am in love again and very young and i believe everything. christ is in the manger and santa in heaven. out yonder there is this huge world... which stands before us like a great, eternal riddle. a wizard is never late. nor is he early. he arrives precisely when he means to. the person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being. his heart withers if it does not answer another heart. his mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts and finds no other inspiration. it is curious how silly, trivial things, sometimes for no apparent reason, become significant. at first you laugh at these things, you think they are of no importance, you go on and you feel that you haven't got the strength to stop yourself... and so it seems to me that if i die, i shall take part in life one way or another. tereza knew what happens during the moment love is born: the woman cannot resist the voice calling forth her terrified soul; the man cannot resist the woman whose soul thus responds to his voice..