O human beauty, what a dream art thou, that we should cast our life and hopes away on thee!

Half the ills we heard within our hearts are ills because we hoard them.

Pity speaks to grief More sweetly than a band of instruments.

Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.

I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more.

There's not a wind but whispers of thy name; And not a flow'r that grows beneath the moon, But in its hues and fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love.

Death is the tyrant of the imagination.

Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.

The sweetest noise on earth, a woman's tongue; A string which hath no discord.

O human beauty, what a dream art thou, that we should cast our life and hopes away on thee!

Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, - as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!

So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!

All round the room my silent servants wait, My friends in every season, bright and dim.

Oh, the summer night Has a smile of light And she sits on a sapphire throne.

Art teaches nothing, except the significance of life.

The principal rule of art is to please and to move. All the other rules were created to achieve this first one.

I grew up with art from the innocent age of ten - with art, but with no sense of identity.

One does not devote one's life in art to shock an audience.

The other great development has been in photography, but that too was influenced by Conceptual art.

My art became very public.

Riding a race bike is an art - a thing that you do because you feel something inside.

The idea is, if I can't heal from my art, then how can you heal?

But in the finished art of the song the use of words has no connection with the use of words in poetry.

One does not need buildings, money, power, or status to practice the Art of Peace. Heaven is right where you are standing, and that is the place to train.

I don't believe in art. I believe in artists.

Art cannot be modern. Art is primordially eternal.

Without art, the crudeness of reality would make the world unbearable.

We have often been attracted to the story of the other, the outcast. And he and I just loved working together, so it just kept happening, and our relationship is completely bound up with our work. We enjoy each other's art.

Where the spirit does not work with the hand, there is no art.

It is veneer, rouge, aestheticism, art museums, new theaters, etc. that make America impotent. The good things are football, kindness, and jazz bands.

At the University of Maryland, my first year I started off planning to major in art because I was interested in theatre design, stage design or television design.

Art is an expression of who you are. Parts that I play are my sculptures.

There has always been quite a strong black and white art tradition in Australia, with quite a large contingent of cartoonists, given the size of the population.

There is probably nothing wrong with art for art's sake if we take the phrase seriously, and not take it to mean the kind of poetry written in England forty years ago.

A man who exposes himself when he is intoxicated, has not the art of getting drunk.

What motivates me in art is the ugly and beautiful nature of the truth. It has to be truthful and honest, even if it is ugly and grotesque.

A great thing happening now in art is that artists are using the figure, the body, clothing, life.

I was the executive editor on a little magazine called Greek Accent, whose only claim to fame is that its art director went on to be the art director of Discover for many years.

I always feel like the art's there and I just see it, so it's not really a lot of work.

I am for an art that takes into account the direct effect of the elements as they exist from day to day apart from representation.

And, moreover, it is art in its most general and comprehensive form that is here discussed, for the dialogue embraces everything connected with it, from its greatest object, the state, to its least, the embellishment of sensuous existence.

A blind man can make art if what is in his mind can be passed to another mind in some tangible form.

I regard it as a waste of time to think only of selling: one forgets one's art and exaggerates one's value.

A frenzied passion for art is a canker that devours everything else.

The early expression of my youth was filled with all the aspects of art.

Art is making something out of nothing and selling it.

The art which we may call generally art of the wayside, as opposed to that which is the business of men's lives, is, in the best sense of the word, Grotesque.

Christmas renews our youth by stirring our wonder. The capacity for wonder has been called our most pregnant human faculty, for in it are born our art, our science, our religion.

The art and science of asking questions is the source of all knowledge.