There are moments of intense vulnerability, moments when the missing you is so intense it takes my breath away, moments when only being wrapped in your arms will make it ok.
e.v.e.
The artist is the creator of beautiful things.
To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s
aim.
The critic is he who can translate into another
manner or a new material his impression of
beautiful things.
The highest as the lowest form of criti-
cism is a mode of autobiography.
Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful
things are corrupt without being charming.
This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings
in beautiful things are the cultivated.
For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty.
There is no such thing as a moral or an
immoral book. Books are well written,
or badly written. That is all.
The nineteenth century dislike of Realism is the rage of Caliban seeing his own face in a glass.
The nineteenth century dislike of
Romanticism is the rage of Caliban
not seeing his own face in a glass.
The moral life of man forms part of the
subject-matter of the artist, but the morality
of art consists in the perfect use of an im-
perfect medium.
No artist desires to prove anything. Even
things that are true can be proved.
No artist has ethical sympathies. An
ethical sympathy in an artist is an un-
pardonable mannerism of style.
No artist is ever morbid. The artist
can express everything.
Thought and language are to the artist
instruments of an art.
Vice and virtue are to the artist materials
for an art.
From the point of view of form, the type of all the arts is the art of the musician.
From the point of view of feeling, the actor’s craft is the type.
All art is at once surface and
symbol.
Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril.
Those who read the symbol do so at
their peril.
It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.
Diversity of opinion about a work of art
shows that the work is new, complex, and
vital.
When critics disagree, the artist is in accord
with himself.
We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.
OSCAR WILDE
Can you hate someone for what they have done, but still love them for whom they had been?
Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes
The hardest part of letting go is understanding that the other person is okay with losing you.
— r.r.
