Quotes about sketch
Un Fantôme (A Phantom)
I Les Ténèbres
Dans les caveaux d'insondable tristesse
Où le Destin m'a déjà relégué;
Où jamais n'entre un rayon rose et gai;
Où, seul avec la Nuit, maussade hôtesse,
Je suis comme un peintre qu'un Dieu moqueur
Condamne à peindre, hélas! sur les ténèbres;
Où, cuisinier aux appétits funèbres,
Je fais bouillir et je mange mon coeur,
Par instants brille, et s'allonge, et s'étale
Un spectre fait de grâce et de splendeur.
À sa rêveuse allure orientale,
Quand il atteint sa totale grandeur,
Je reconnais ma belle visiteuse:
C'est Elle! noire et pourtant lumineuse.
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Sketch Book
If I may,
allow thee,
stand
lay
find
your
pose.
Will sketch thee in thy book.
Charcoal
grainy
dark
smudges blending,
image
take
form.
Disrobe
do not,
[...] Read more
poem by Gary Kedron
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Third Book
'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.
For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Always Be One To Me
Sketch a flame on a candle.
Have it up-side-down.
What do you see?
It's like a water dropp out of a cup!
Like the sketch,
I find you known to me always.
poem by Wabi Sabi
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I think that one of Tim's great qualities and abilities is in what seems like a thumbnail sketch to get something quite telling, very simply, when you're doing it or being in that thumbnail sketch, you don't feel that it's important.
quote by Albert Finney
Added by Lucian Velea
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You asked what is the secret of a really good sketch. And it is a sketch is a small play. It's got a beginning, and a middle and an end. It should have a plot; it should have the characters, conflict. It is a little play. And in it, will be funny stuff.
quote by Harvey Korman
Added by Lucian Velea
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Commit wrong
To sketch is not to commit wrong
To write is not to commit wrong.
Birth right of the artist
Is to sketch freely
Birth right of the poet
Is to compose poem freely.
Freedom of speech and expression
Is for a freelancer
Nobody is there to challenge
In this free world of all.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The first piece of art that I ever bought-when I could afford it-was a Warhol sketch from the period when he was just getting out of doing commercial work and more into art. It's a sketch of a young guy's face. I guess the gallery that I bought it from thought I would like it because the young guy kind of looked like James Dean.
quote by James Franco
Added by Lucian Velea
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Desertedness
Unrecognizable are the days,
Neither does the sunrise,
Cast any spell,
Nor does the yonder descending star,
Sketch any image.
From the sky-kissing,
Rocky peaks of mountains,
To the soft soil of the earth,
Reigns, governs some icy-season,
The wing-folded birds are sitting,
Unprotected, exposed in the boughs.
And I in the patio of my home,
Though much indulged, yet sit
Deserted, desolate in mood.
Unrecognizable are the days,
Neither does the sunrise,
Cast any spell,
Nor does the yonder descending star,
[...] Read more
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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In the National Gallery
Here, in the pale light of a winter’s day
I entered with a sketch pad in my hand.
I never dreamed that I’d encounter you-
To sketch out some old master was my plan.
Was it your eyes that first seduced me near,
or those cherry lips that I would never taste?
Two centuries past you were a beauty, dear.
Now, all but this image, time has lain to waste.
I envy him who painted you in camera,
together in your sitting room alone.
Who knows just how the session was concluded
If your old and senile husband wasn’t home?
I’m cast here in the role of a voyeur,
I haven’t even tried to draw a line.
Your dress of silk reveals just one bare shoulder,
Your eyes, the promise of a night divine.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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