Bram van Velde Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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Jealousy is the worst trait in any person.
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Could a man live by it, it were not unpleasant employment to be a poet.
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I don't see myself as someone that brings a lot of luggage.
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Here is the dirty little secret about anti-abortion violence: It works.
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I fear God and next to God I mostly fear them that fear him not.
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The Self of everyone, the Atma of everyone, the transcendental field of reality of everyone, is the same in everyone. Whether the body calls itself an American, German, Indian or Chinese, it doesn't matter.
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When the Spirit is present, people are not offended when you share your feelings about the gospel.
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My dear girl, you must cultivate a taste for the finer things. Civilized pleasures give meaning to life.
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I've always wanted to do a family movie.
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For we cannot adequately understand 'man' as an isolated biological creature, as a bundle of reflexes or a set of instincts, as an 'intelligible field' or a system in and of itself. Whatever else he may be, man is a social and an historical actor who must be understood, if at all, in close and intricate interplay with social and historical structures
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I'll not punish you for having an imagination.
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I've been left for someone...all those things...It was sometimes a surprise, and sometimes you saw t coming. The most painful was when I kept trying to get someone back. But we all make dumb mistakes.
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I like, you may say, the glitter and colour that comes from the mouth, and I've always hoped in a sense to be able to paint the mouth like Monet painted a sunset.
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The muses visit when I'm lonely.
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There is a certain kind of person who is so dominated by the desire to be loved for himself alone that he has constantly to test those around him by tiresome behavior; what he says and does must be admired, not because it is intrinsically admirable, but because it is his remark, his act. Does not this explain a good deal of avant-garde art?
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But of all the water's secrets, he saw today only a single one-one that struck his soul. He saw that this water flowed and flowed, it was constantly flowing, and yet it was always there; it was always eternally the same and yet new at every moment! Oh, to be able to grasp this, to understand this!
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Now that Stevenson is dead I can think of but one English- speaking author who is really keeping his self-respect and sticking forperfection. Of course I refer to that mighty master of language and keen student of human actions and motives, Henry James.
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I paint the impossibility of painting.
