To say the word Romanticism is to say modern art - that is, intimacy, spirituality, color, aspiration towards the infinite, expressed by every means available to the arts.
The beautiful is always bizarre.
Evil is committed without effort, naturally, fatally; goodness is always the product of some art.
In order for the artist to have a world to express he must first be situated in this world, oppressed or oppressing, resigned or rebellious, a man among men.
A work of art should be like a well-planned crime.
The will to work must dominate, for art is long and time is brief.
Evil is done without effort, naturally, it's destiny; good is always the product of skill.
Modernity is the transitory, the fugitive, the contingent, which make up one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immutable. This transitory fugitive element, which is constantly changing, must not be despised or neglected.
A frenzied passion for art is a canker that devours everything else.
It is the greatest art of the devil to convince us he does not exist.
The more a man cultivates the arts the less he fornicates. A more and more apparent cleavage occurs between the spirit and the brute.
What is art? Prostitution.
If photography is allowed to stand in for art in some of its functions it will soon supplant or corrupt it completely thanks to the natural support it will find in the stupidity of the multitude. It must return to its real task, which is to be the servant of the sciences and the arts, but the very humble servant, like printing and shorthand which have neither created nor supplanted literature.
There can be no progress-real, moral prgress-except in the individual and by the individual himself.
An artist is only an artist on condition that he neglects no aspect of his dual nature. This dualism is the power of being oneself and someone else at one and the same time.
Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable.
Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature?
...an industry which can furnish results identical to nature must be the absolute in art.
The artist is today and has been for many years, despite his absence of merit, simply a spoiled child. So many honors, so much money bestowed on men without souls and without education.
Blessed art Thou, Lord, who giveth suffering As a divine remedy for our impurities.
It is one of the prodigious privileges of art that the horrific, artistically expressed, becomes beauty, and that sorrow, given rhythm and cadence, fills the spirit with a calm joy.
Art is an infinitely precious good, a draught both refreshing and cheering which restores the stomach and the mind to the natural equilibrium of the ideal.
In art, there is one thing which does not receive sufficient attention. The element which is left to the human will is not nearly so large as people think.
This industry [photography], by invading the territories of art, has become art's most mortal enemy.
It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
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