The screech and mechanical uproar of the big city turns the citified head, fills citified earsas the song of birds, wind in the trees, animal cries, or as the voices and songs of his loved ones once filled his heart. He is sidewalk- happy.
(Frank Lloyd Wright (1869-1959), U.S. architect. "Earth," pt. 1, The Living City (1958).)
If you're going to write something - be it a poem, a song or a story, you have to close your eyes then give your whole heart, soul and mind into it... Then as you open your eyes, it will become a masterpiece.
This is a catastrophic universe, always; and subject to sudden reversals, upheavals, changes, cataclysms, with joy never anything but the song of substance under pressure forced into new forms and shapes.
(Doris Lessing (b. 1919), British novelist. Johor, in Shikasta, "Johor reports," p. 3, Knopf (1979).)
When we speak, in gestures or signs, we fashion a real object in the world; the gesture is seen, the words and the song are heard. The arts are simply a kind of writing, which, in one way or another, fixes words or gestures, and gives body to the invisible.
(Alain [Emile-Auguste Chartier] (1868-1951), French philosopher. The Gods, introduction (1934, trans. 1988). . . .