Pablo Picasso Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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Pussy put his ass to sleep, now he calling me NyQuil
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I bob and weave em, hit em wit that Mayweather JAB.
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I told Khaled you the best but I'm the bestest. Better run for cover if your name is on my checklist.
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Ok first things first I'll eat your brains Then Imma start rockin gold teeth & fangs
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I hear them mumblin, I hear the cacklin I got em scared, shook, panickin
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Imma violate yall asses like Chris Stokes.
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Mike Jack. Who's bad? Aint on my period, but I got a new pad.
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Now all my niggas gettin buck Overbite
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My father lead by fear. I did what my father said ‘cause I was scared of getting my ass beat. His voice rang so vividly in my head. That it was just…a fear.
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If the real world is orange juice, then art is like orange-juice concentrate.
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The contest between form and content is what, is what art is about - it's art history. That's what basically everybody has ever contended with. The problem is uniquely complex in still photography.
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No art is sunk in the self, but rather, in art the self becomes self-forgetful in order to meet the demands of the thing seen and the thing being made.
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The greatest danger in art is too much knowledge.
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Art is always in the eyes of the beholder. Only posterity has the right to point out our mistakes.
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I think the medical term for the injury is 'the bottom of my ass hurts.'
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All art is immortal. For emotion for the sake of emotion is the aim of art, and emotion for the sake of action is the aim of life.
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There's no 'dumb-ass' vaccine.
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Did you see The Never-Ending Story? That's one kick-ass dragon. It's basically a giant puppy dragon.
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Las Vegas is a major family destination. Nevada casinos have become American family values now. It's considered just fine to go into one of these windowless scary gambling-malls, drink yourself silly, lose your ass at roulette, and then go ogle showgirls with breast implants. Republicans do this now. Working-class folks do it in polyester stretch pants. It's normal.
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I don't think boxing took more from me then I got in return. It gave me everything that I took from it. It was all fair.
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Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws...
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The question "From where does the poet get it?" addresses only the what, nobody learns anything about the how when asking that question.
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Art is a finger up the bourgeoisie ass.
