“The crow wished everything was black, the owl, that every thing was white.”
here's a fun lil' piece i did today. pretty small on a girl's shoulder blade.
Hell isn't merely paved with good intentions; it's walled and roofed with them. Yes, and furnished too.
Maybe this world is another planet's hell.
Perhaps it's good for one to suffer. Can an artist do anything if he's happy? Would he ever want to do anything? What is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life?
The finest works of art are precious, among other reasons, because they make it possible for us to know, if only imperfectly and for a little while, what it actually feels like to think subtly and feel nobly.
We are all geniuses up to the age of ten.
A belief in hell and the knowledge that every ambition is doomed to frustration at the hands of a skeleton have never prevented the majority of human beings from behaving as though death were no more than an unfounded rumor.
You can't control how you are perceived, and you are a fool if you waste any energy trying to do so. Vanity will get you nowhere.
Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping.
-- Bo Derek
A wise old owl sat on an oak; The more he saw the less he spoke; The less he spoke the more he heard; Why aren't we like that wise old bird?