Although all the good arts serve to draw man's mind away from vices and lead it toward better things, this function can be more fully performed by this art, which also provides extraordinary intellectual pleasure.
But now science, spurred on by its powerful delusion, hurtles inexorably towards its limits where the optimism hidden in the essence of logic founders. For the periphery of the circle of science has an infinite number of points and while there is no telling yet how the circle could ever be fully surveyed,the noble and gifted man, before he has reached the middle of his life, still inevitably encounters such peripheral limit points andfinds himself staring into an impenetrable darkness. If he at that moment sees to his horror how in these limits logic coils arounditself and finally bites its own tail - then the new form of knowledge breaks through, tragic knowledge, which in order to be tolerated,needs art as a protection and remedy.
I can't bear art that you can walk round and admire. A book should be either a bandit or a rebel or a man in the crowd.
All art is a revolt against man's fate.
The happiness of the bee and the dolphin is to exist. For man it is to know that and to wonder at it.
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious - the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
To be a warrior is not a simple matter of wishing to be one. It is rather an endless struggle that will go on to the very last moment of our lives. Nobody is born a warrior, in exactly the same way that nobody is born an average man. We make ourselves into one or the other.
Mystery creates wonder and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand.
If a man devotes himself to art, much evil is avoided that happens otherwise if one is idle.
Let each man exercise the art he knows.
Every man, either to his terror or consolation, has some sense of religion.
What love is to man, music is to the arts and to mankind.
The man who has sufficient power over himself to wait until his nature has recovered its even balance is the truly wise man, but such beings are seldom met with.
Then their imagination could work wonders upon wonders and invoke the shades of the philosophers, who would instruct them in their art.
To the man who loves art for its own sake, it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived.
That man's silence is wonderful to listen to.
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?
What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity devoid of troubling or depressing subject matter - a soothing, calming influence on the mind, rather like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue.
The business of art is to reveal the relation between man and his environment.
Intent is not a thought, or an object, or a wish. Intent is what can make a man succeed when his thoughts tell him that he is defeated. It operates in spite of the warrior's indulgence. Intent is what makes him invulnerable. Intent is what sends a shaman through a wall, through space, to infinity.
I am a poor man and of little worth, who is laboring in that art that God has given me in order to extend my life as long as possible.
You can calculate the worth of a man by the number of his enemies, and the importance of a work of art by the harm that is spoken of it.
There are worlds of experience beyond the world of the aggressive man, beyond history, and beyond science. The moods and qualities of nature and the revelations of great art are equally difficult to define; we can grasp them only in the depths of our perceptive spirit.
An average man is too concerned with liking people or with being liked himself. A warrior likes, that's all. He likes whatever or whomever he wants, for the hell of it.
One man cannot practice many arts with success.