Now nature is not at variance with art, nor art with nature; they
being both the servants of his providence. Art is the perfection
of nature. Were the world now as it was the sixth day, there
were yet a chaos. Nature hath made one world, and art another.
In brief, all things are artificial; for nature is the art of
God.
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The work of art may have a moral effect, but to demand moral purpose from the artist is to make read more
The work of art may have a moral effect, but to demand moral purpose from the artist is to make him ruin his work
To a true artist only that face is beautiful which, quite apart from its exterior, shines with the truth within read more
To a true artist only that face is beautiful which, quite apart from its exterior, shines with the truth within the soul
Nothing is more beautiful than the loveliness of the woods before sunrise.
Nothing is more beautiful than the loveliness of the woods before sunrise.
And how should a beautiful, ignorant stream of water know it heads for an early release - out across the read more
And how should a beautiful, ignorant stream of water know it heads for an early release - out across the desert, running toward the Gulf, below sea level, to murmur its lullaby, and see the Imperial Valley rise out of burning sand with cotton blossoms, wheat, watermelons, roses, how should it know?
Every picture shows a spot with which the artist has fallen in love.
Every picture shows a spot with which the artist has fallen in love.
Although nature commences with reason and ends in experience it is necessary for us to do the opposite, that is read more
Although nature commences with reason and ends in experience it is necessary for us to do the opposite, that is to commence with experience and from this to proceed to investigate the reason.
Our nature is the mind. And the mind is our nature.rn
Our nature is the mind. And the mind is our nature.rn
We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a
surplice peg,
We have learned read more
We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a
surplice peg,
We have learned to bottle our parent twain in the yelk of an
addled egg.
We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the horse is drawn by
the cart,
But the devil never whoops, as he of old; It's clever, but is it
art?
All passes, Art alone
Enduring stays to us;
The Bust out-lasts the throne,--
The read more
All passes, Art alone
Enduring stays to us;
The Bust out-lasts the throne,--
The coin, Tiberius.
