Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return. — Leonardo da Vinci
Her lute hangs shadowed in the apple-tree, While flashing fingers weave the sweet-strung spell Between its chords; and as the wild notes swell, The sea-bird for those branches leaves the sea. — Dante Gabriel Rossetti, “A Sea-Spell (for a Picture),” composed in 1870 to accompany his painting A Sea-Spell (1875-7).
From my rotting body, flowers shall grow, and I am in them, and that is eternity. — Edvard Munch
I used to think that I could never lose anyone if I photographed them enough. In fact, my pictures show me how much I’ve lost. — Nan Goldin
A poet is someone who can fuck people just by speaking to them. …The work is fucking the space. — Oscar Tuazon
Everything that is dead quivers. Not only the things of poetry, stars, moon, wood, flowers, but even a white trouser button glittering out of a puddle in the street… Everything has a secret soul, which is silent more often than it speaks. ― Wassily Kandinsky
Someday death will take us to another star. — Vincent van Gogh