If you have a rifle, hanging on the wall in the first act, it should fire in the last act.
art theater fire play wall act stage hanging
A blank canvas is so abstract that only imagination can fill it. But wait! Don't hang it on the wall like that. It's upside down.?
imagination art wall wait abstract
I will admit that I wanted to shout for standing on the top of a scaffold in front of a good new wall always goes to my head. It is a sensation something between that of an angel let out of his cage into a new sky and a drunkard turned loose in a royal cellar. And after all, what nobler elevation could you find in this world than the scaffold of a wall painter? No admiral on the bridge of a new battleship designed by the old navy, could feel more pleased with himself than Gulley, on two planks, forty feet above dirt level, with his palette table beside him, his brush in his hand, and the draught blowing up his trousers; cleared for action.
action art world sky good new-beginnings artists feel find wall angel hand head navy cage bridge
We live today amid ritualized anithumanisms. Among those intelligent enough to feel despair, some seek salvation in the literary artist. Artists love flattery; and the scam doesn't work without mystifying the process. The weather is unpredictable, but it is not mysterious. Wall Street is unpredictable, but it is not mysterious. Writing is unpredictable, (like street and sky, there are too many variables.) Its mystery vanishes, like a shadow, the moment the light aimed at your characters turns back upon yourself.
mystery writing work light art live moment characters today sky artist process despair artists feel literary weather shadow salvation wall flattery mysterious intelligent love
I was a masterpiece; a painting in itself. He was changing me, molding me, and making me into something brand new. I was a blank canvas when I came to him, ready to absorb all the paint he would slather on me. He kept going, adding layer upon layer, sometimes even shedding them just so I could turn out beautiful. And he was done now, ready to let me leave and display me on a wall for people to see.
people art beautiful changing wall leave masterpiece painting ready brand paint
Graffiti is not about clean lines, pretty colors and beautiful blends. Graffiti is my life's turbulence exploded on a wall.
clean art beautiful wall colors pretty
One of the questions asked by al-Balkhi, and often repeated to this day, is this: Why do the children of Israel continue to suffer? My grandmother Dodo thought it was because the were jealous. The seder for Passover (which is a shame-faced simulacrum of a Hellenic question-and-answer session, even including the wine) tells the children that it's one of those things that happens to every Jewish generation. After the or or Holocaust, many rabbis tried to tell the survivors that the immolation had been a punishment for 'exile,' or for insufficient attention to the Covenant. This explanation was something of a flop with those whose parents or children had been the raw material for the 'proof,' so for a time the professional interpreters of god's will went decently quiet. This interval of ambivalence lasted until the war of 1967, when it was announced that the divine purpose could be discerned after all. How wrong, how foolish, to have announced its discovery prematurely! The exile and the Shoah could now both be understood, as part of a heavenly if somewhat roundabout scheme to recover the Western Wall in Jerusalem and other pieces of biblically mandated real estate.I regard it as a matter of self-respect to spit in public on rationalizations of this kind. (They are almost as repellent, in their combination of arrogance, masochism, and affected false modesty, as Edith Stein's 'offer' of her life to expiate the regrettable unbelief in Jesus of her former fellow Jews.) The sage Jews are those who have put religion behind them and become in so many societies the leaven of the secular and the atheist.
purpose life modesty time war christianity religion real children parents thought suffering bible kind wrong self-respect attention holocaust judaism questions jesus divine arrogance discovery foolish day jealousy jews quiet public pieces wall false atheist wine suffer things matter martyrdom punishment explanation exile western israel secularism part jewish masochism atheism jerusalem secular theodicy
The finger of the atheists' own divinity, Reason, wrote on the wall the appalling judgments that there is no God; that the universe is only matter in spontaneous motion; and, most grievous word of all, that what men call their souls die with the death of the body, as music dies when the strings are broken.
men death music the-universe body reason universe divinity word broken wall matter die call souls the-soul god atheism
The reason why God doesn't show his face is because he stands behind a wall that can be broken.
reason broken wall face god atheism
So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night.
silence dreams rest light voice world dream book dark words glass night bad waiting wall pictures hear painting single skin pages books side short purring
The finest music in the room is that which streams out to the ear of the spirit in many an exquisite strain from the little shelf of books on the opposite wall. Every volume there is an instrument which some melodist of the mind created and set vibrating with music, as a flower shakes out its perfume or a star shakes out its light. Only listen, and they soothe all care, as though the silken-soft leaves of poppies had been made vocal and poured into the ear.
reading perfume mind music light spirit flower listen care wall star made books
She said it out loud, the words distributed into a room that was full of cold air and books. Books everywhere! Each wall was armed with overcrowded yet immaculate shelving. It was barely possible to see paintwork. There were all different styles and sizes of lettering on the spines of the black, the red, the gray, the every-colored books. It was one of the most beautiful things Liesel Meminger had ever seen. With wonder, she smiled. That such a room existed!
beautiful words black wall air things cold red books
Put a gun to my head and paint the wall with my brains.
death wall suicide gun head brains paint
Think about that for a moment. They died for you. Now take a good look at the life you're living and tell me: Did they do the right thing?
worth life death moment value living good right moral wall thing
Anne, I don't want to live.... Now listen, life is lovely, but I Can't Live It. I can't even explain. I know how silly it sounds... But if you knew how it Felt. To be alive, yes, alive, but not be able to live it. Ay that's the rub. I am like a stone that lives... Locked outside of all that's real.... Anne, do you know of such things, can you hear? I wish, or think I wish, that I were dying of something for then I could be brave, but to be not dying, and yet... And yet to [be] behind a wall, watching everyone fit in where I can't, to talk behind a gray foggy wall, to live but to not reach or to reach wrong... To do it all wrong... Believe me, (can you?)... What's wrong. I want to belong. I'm like a jew who ends up in the wrong country. I'm not a part. I'm not a member. I'm frozen.
life death live real wrong lovely lives listen wall suicide brave alive talk things sounds hear country dying part silly jew
The dead boy in his arms hung with his head back and those partly opened eyes beheld nothing at all out of that passing landscape of street or wall or paling sky or the figures of the children who stood blessing themselves in the gray light. This man and his burden passed on forever out of that nameless crossroads and the women stepped once more into the street and the children followed and all continued on to their appointed places which as some believe were chosen long ago even to the beginning of the world.
women places man death light children world sky beginning blessing eyes wall dead forever crossroads boy head landscape arms burden
The sound is gone. There's nothing left but the insomniac throbbing of crickets. Crickets in the garden, the courtyard, the back courtyard. Close, domestic, identifiable. And those out in the country. Between all of them they raise, little by little, a wall that will keep out the thing that lies waiting for the tiniest crack of silence to steal through. The thing that is feared by all those who are sleepless, those who walk through the night, those who are lonely, children. That thing. The voice of the dead.
silence sound death voice lies children night waiting wall dead lonely walk country garden close left thing steal
His whole life was a sham, a fairy tale. The truth hidden behind a wall of lies, each lie another brick in the wall until he probably couldn't see the truth anymore.
truth lies fairy-tale wall
I would rather build a relationship than a wall. Can you pass me another brick?
relationships wall
She's lazy, so i'm not sure when she had time to build that wall she has surrounding her.
relationships laziness wall
Count the times. The number of times you have seen the silence of another world seep though a crack. The number of times you have heard the sea trying to escape from the blue painted wall.
silence world wall sea
Suddenly this is all too hard. I am tired of putting up walls. I want someone with the strength - and the honesty - to break them down.
strength honesty break wall
There are no walls at the edge of this universe.. Absence of gravity is the limit of space existence.
existence universe secret wall
If we presume that the boundary of the universe is a kind of surrounding wall, then we think like ancestors who thought there's abyss at the edge of flat earth.
universe wall abyss think ancestor
Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?
curiosity wall george-r-r-martin a-game-of-thrones a-song-of-ice-and-fire tyrion-lannister
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