"In this country, the village should in some respects take the place of the nobleman of Europe. It should be the patron of the finearts. It is rich enough. It wants only the magnanimity and refinement."
"You may melt your metals and cast them into the most beautiful moulds you can; they will never excite me like the forms which thismolten earth flows out into. And not only it, but the institutions upon it are plastic like clay in the hands of the potter."
"The most interesting dwellings in this country, as the painter knows, are the most unpretending, humble log huts and cottages of the poor commonly; it is the life of the inhabitants whose shells they are, and not any peculiarity in their surfaces merely, which makes them picturesque."
"The animal merely makes a bed, which he warms with his body, in a sheltered place; but man, having discovered fire, boxes up someair in a spacious apartment, and warms that.... Thus he goes a step or two beyond instinct, and saves a little time for the fine arts."
"A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work ofart. It is the work of art nearest to life itself. It may be translated into every language, and not only be read but actually breathed from all human lips;Mnot be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself. The symbol of an ancient man's thought becomes a modern man's speech."
"A primary function of art and thought is to liberate the individual from the tyranny of his culture in the environmental sense andto permit him to stand beyond it in an autonomy of perception and judgment."
"All great art, and today all great artlessness, must appear extreme to the mass of men, as we know them today. It springs from theanguish of great souls. From the souls of men not formed, but deformed in factories whose inspiration is pelf."
"If the Revolution has the right to destroy bridges and art monuments whenever necessary, it will stop still less from laying its hand on any tendency in art which, no matter how great its achievement in form, threatens to disintegrate the revolutionary environment or to arouse the internal forces of the Revolution, that is, the proletariat, the peasantry and the intelligentsia, to a hostile opposition to one another. Our standard is, clearly, political, imperative and intolerant."
"In contrast to the flux and muddle of life, art is clarity and enduring presence. In the stream of life, few things are perceivedclearly because few things stay put. Every mood or emotion is mixed or diluted by contrary and extraneous elements. The clarity of art--the precise evocation of mood in the novel, or of summer twilight in a painting--is like waking to a bright landscape after a long fitful slumber, or the fragrance of chicken soup after a week of head cold."
"Art, if one employs this term in the broad sense that includes poetry within its realm, is an art of creation laden with ideals, located at the very core of the life of a people, defining the spiritual and moral shape of that life."
"As for work, without it, without painstaking work, any writer or artist definitely remains a dilettante; there's no point in waiting for so-called blissful moments, for inspiration; if it comes, so much the better--but you keep working anyway."
"These was all nice pictures, I reckon, but I didn't somehow seem to take to them, because if ever I was down a little, they alwaysgive me the fan-tods. Everybody was sorry she died, because she had laid out a lot more of these pictures to do, and a body could see by what she had done what they had lost. But I reckoned, that with her disposition, she was having a better time in the graveyard."
"There is nothing here [Civita Vecchia] to see. They have not even a cathedral, with eleven tons of solid silver archbishops in theback room; and they do not show you any moldy buildings that are seven thousand years old; nor any smoke-dried old fire-screens which are chef d'oeuvres of Rubens or Simpson, or Titian or Ferguson, or any of those parties; and they haven't any bottled fragments of saints, and not even a nail from the true cross. We are going to Rome. There is nothing to see here."
"I have got enough of the old masters! Brown says he has "shook" them, and I think I will shake them, too. You wander through a mile of picture galleries and stare stupidly at ghastly old nightmares done in lampblack and lightning, and listen to the ecstatic encomiums of the guides, and try to get up some enthusiasm, but it won't come."
"When I see that the nineteenth century has crowned the idolatry of Art with the deification of Love, so that every poet is supposed to have pierced to the holy of holies when he has announced that Love is the Supreme, or the Enough, or the All, I feel that Art was safer in the hands of the most fanatical of Cromwell's major generals than it will be if ever it gets into mine."