I went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, along the firing lines where people were shooting at a small wooded hill, which is now covered with wooden crosses and lines of graves instead of spring flowers.

I went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, along the firing lines where people were shooting at a small wooded hill, which is now covered with wooden crosses and lines of graves instead of spring flowers.

One of my problems is to find the self.

I am seeking for the bridge which leans from the visible to the invisible through reality.

It was so wonderful outside that even the wild senselessness of this enormous death, whose music I hear again and again, could not disturb me from my great enjoyment!

I believe that the reason why I love painting so much is that it forces one to be objective. There is nothing I hate more than sentimentality.

Space, and space again, is the infinite deity which surrounds us and in which we are ourselves contained.

There is nothing I hate more than sentimentality.

Painting is a very difficult thing. It absorbs the whole man, body and soul, thus have I passed blindly many things which belong to real and political life.

Painting constantly appeared to me as the one and only possible achievement.

I think only of objects: of a leg or an arm, of the wonderful sense of foreshortening, breaking through the plane, of the division of space, of the combination of straight lines in relation to curved ones.

I passed blindly many things which belong to real and political life.

I do not weep: I loathe tears, for they are a sign of slavery.

I hardly need to abstract things, for each object is unreal enough already, so unreal that I can only make it real by means of painting.

What I want to show in my work is the idea which hides itself behind so-called reality.

Art is creative for the sake of realization, not for amusement... for transfiguration, not for the sake of play.

Height, width, and depth are the three phenomena which I must transfer into one plane to form the abstract surface of the picture, and thus to protect myself from the infinity of space.

What are you? What am I? Those are the questions that constantly persecute and torment me and perhaps also play some part in my art.

I believe the reason I love painting so much is that it forces one to be objective.

On my left the shooting had the sharp explosion of the infantry artillery, on my right could be heard the sporadic cannon shots thundering from the front, and up above the sky was clear and the sun bright.

I like to take pictures of lots of things: people-such as my nephews, my dogs, and just interesting objects that I see. For instance, I might take a picture of flowers by the side of the road, an old sign or a fence.

The mare set off for home with the speed of a swallow, and going as smoothly and silently. I never had dreamed of such a motion, fluent and graceful, and ambient, soft as the breeze flitting over the flowers, but swift as the summer lightening.

I don't like painting flowers in my music. I like painting guts and pain.

For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!

I'm a hopeless romantic, and very much the person in a relationship to go: If things are going well, I'll buy the flowers, remember the dates of things, plan fun nights out.

Because we are in a war situation, this can sometimes be dangerous work. But guys like A.D. Flowers and his technicians just take it in stride and get on with the job. In four years, we've never had a serious accident or injury working with all the explosions.

The earth laughs in flowers.

With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy.

And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.

Flowers grow out of dark moments.

Children in a family are like flowers in a bouquet: there's always one determined to face in an opposite direction from the way the arranger desires.

The cloning of humans is on most of the lists of things to worry about from Science, along with behaviour control, genetic engineering, transplanted heads, computer poetry and the unrestrained growth of plastic flowers.

Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.

Flowers are the sweetest things God ever made and forgot to put a soul into.

I went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, along the firing lines where people were shooting at a small wooded hill, which is now covered with wooden crosses and lines of graves instead of spring flowers.

The advice I am giving always to all my students is above all to study the music profoundly... music is like the ocean, and the instruments are little or bigger islands, very beautiful for the flowers and trees.

Let a hundred flowers bloom.

I didn't even recall being on the DB sessions until Herbie Flowers reminded me a couple of years ago.

It is with flowers as with moral qualities; the bright are sometimes poisonous; but, I believe, never the sweet.

I like perfume and flowers.

These flowers, which were splendid and sprightly, waking in the dawn of the morning, in the evening will be a pitiful frivolity, sleeping in the cold night's arms.

For a writer, published works are like fallen flowers, but the expected new work is like a calyx waiting to blossom.

Too late for fruit, too soon for flowers.

True glory takes root, and even spreads; all false pretences, like flowers, fall to the ground; nor can any counterfeit last long.

At present, I am mainly observing the physical motion of mountains, water, trees and flowers. One is everywhere reminded of similar movements in the human body, of similar impulses of joy and suffering in plants.

When the Christians, upon these occasions, received martyrdom, they were ornamented, and crowned with garlands of flowers; for which they, in heaven, received eternal crowns of glory.

No, what I should really like to do right now, in the full blaze of lights, before this illustrious assembly, is to shower every one of you with gifts, with flowers, with offerings of poetry - to be young once more, to ride on the crest of the wave.

Little deeds are like little seeds, they grow to flowers or to weeds.

Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.