Quotes about paint

Today is your day to paint life in bold colorsset today’s rhythm with your heart-drumwalk today’s march with couragecreate today as your celebration of life.

Use your own paint colour your world

I cannot live under pressures from patrons, let alone paint.

I can paint pictures, but I cannot rule men.

I would be pleased if someone would invent a pill to remove my impatience, moodiness, and occasional bursts of anger. But if they did, I wouldn't be able to write my novels or paint.

How can any one paint who cannot grade colors? How can any one write poetry who has not learnt to hear and see?

Deals are my art form. Other people paint beautifully on canvas or write wonderful poetry. I like making deals, preferably big deals. That's how I get my kicks.

Paint me perfect poetry.

Imagination is tapping into the subconscious in a form of open play. That is why art or music therapy, which encourages a person to take up brushes and paint or an instrument, and just express themselves, is so powerful.

It was any outcast's nightmare.If I looked carefully, I suspected I might find it beneath the black paint of the small acrylic by the window.

I learned to play the instruments of war," he said, "and paint in blood.

I wasn’t a nerd, mind you, but I’d spent a lot of my youth studying Epics, so I’d had limited experience with social interaction. I mixed with ordinary people about the same way that a bucket of paint mixed with a bag of gerbils.

Your words on the screen are my color palette I dip my brush into your words and paint youOn the sky, on the ceiling, on the snow; on the tabletOf things eternal : love truth beauty happiness

When you build a house You nail down memories Paint and stain the fabric of time

I decided I would fill the emptiness in me with God and with paint.

Despite my incessant desperation, I simply cannot paint the perfect picture within which I would wish to live out my life. And because I cannot, God picked up the brush of love, positioned the canvas of history and painted a manger.

I PAINT MY FACE.By Omrane Khuder.Mirror, distorted; I sit, paint my Face,Toxic white Make-up buries my Scars,My Eyes tell lies; Dumbfounded Confidence hides the Disgrace.Place the tragic Vehicle called My Life in to Drive,Sad pathetic Clown; Late for the suppression show,Despair another time; Let the chuckles and defeat derive.I paint my Heart; I hide my True.I paint my Soul; I keep it from You.I paint, I cannot accept; To ignore you the way you ignore Me?I paint my scarred and pitiful Face; No

Piece makes Peace , Pain makes Paint, A Word create World. "The One person can change you, Maybe ubiquitous r inconspicuous.

If I began to drawmyself away from youwe’d still be liketwo mixed colors of paintimpossible to separate.

For all the pain you suffered, my mama. For all the torment of your past and future years, my mama. For all the anguish this picture of pain will cause you. For the unspeakable mystery that brings good fathers and sons into the world and lets a mother watch them tear at each other’s throats. For the Master of the Universe, whose suffering world I do not comprehend. For dreams of horror, for nights of waiting, for memories of death, for the love I have for you, for all the things I remember, and

At eight, he had once told his mother that he wanted to paint air.

Anyone can put paint on a canvas, but only a true master can bring the painting to life. Anyone can kill, but only a genius can make murder an art.

I wanted to paint a picture some day that people would stand before and forget that it was made of paint. I wanted it to creep into them like a bar of music and mushroom there like a soft bullet.

Your paintings are staggeringly beautiful. Did I ever tell you that,or was I just too concerned that you weren't going to earn a living? I know the answer...I worried that the paint was so thickly applied that it might snap off and ruin someone's carpet, rather than realizing that you'd made color itself tactile.

I love you beyond paint, beyond melodies, beyond words. And I hope you will always feel that, even when I'm not around to tell you so.

I miss being in Barbados in December,That is a time I always remember,The smell of varnish on the wooden floors,And the smell of paint on the wooden doorsThe crowds in de Supermarket,Buying up the rum,And the music blastingPuh rup a pum pum

Artists have a unique ability to paint the world, and to help people see injustice. They do it not with guns, but with pens and guitars and paintbrushes.

Your mind is the canvas upon which you are the artist. What will you paint on your canvas today? Will you draw a stick figure or create a masterpiece...?

Know that blank pages feel the urge of the ink as much as tears paint a different pain, changes

Sometimes you have to go a little crazy before you can find sanity. I think I'm close.

Tattoos are a permanent commitment of passion

I paint the darkness and the silence, You see them as stars and poetry.

Curiosity is the art of creativity.

No, I do a bunch of things to entertain myself. I paint, I make music, I take photographs.

It is no use painting the foot of the tree white, the strength of the bark cries out from beneath the paint.

A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself.

I always pet a dog with my left hand because if he bit me I'd still have my right hand to paint with.

If there were only one truth, you couldn't paint a hundred canvases on the same theme.

Public officials insult our intelligence and our goodwill when they paint rosy pictures about budgets, jobs, bipartisanship, and transparency, and alter their positions on issues simply to keep collecting their paycheck by never disagreeing or disappointing anyone.

I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them.

I trust Winsor and Newton and I paint directly upon it.

I don't paint things. I only paint the difference between things.

A writer should write with his eyes and a painter paint with his ears.

Paint the essential character of things.

Draw your pleasure, paint your pleasure, and express your pleasure strongly.

To paint is a possessing rather than a picturing.

If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.

What I wanted to do was to paint sunlight on the side of a house.

I paint with shapes.

If we could but paint with the hand what we see with the eye.

I actually started as a model builder and quickly progressed into production design, which made sense because I could draw and paint. But I kept watching that guy over there who was moving the actors around and setting up the shots.

I love to paint. And I have another profession - an interior design business.

When I started my own practice, I was criticized, not because I was doing product design but because, like Le Corbusier, I was insisting on paintings in all of my buildings. I would paint wall murals in the houses that I designed, just as he did in the '20s and '30s.

As a child, I always chose a false nose and some face paint and a wig for my birthday.

Nick Swardson used to have birthday paint parties. They were phenomenal.

The police have no leads as yet on the person or persons who painted obscene suggestions on the buildings. One store owner said he was going to leave a dictionary on a public bench so the vandals could at least spell the obscenities correctly.

Lifelong pain, an unwanted pregnancy, and even death may be the reward for such a brief window of pleasure. What a foolish gamble!

After using a paint chart from a local DIY superstore to identify the skin tone of his penis as midnight chocolate, Miriam stayed down on one knee and offered him the citizenship he had always wanted and the middle-aged white woman he would grudgingly accept.

Every life is a canvas and every interaction is a brush, therefore we’d be wise to consider how we handle the paint.

APPROACHRain is falling. Winter approaches. I drive towards it. In the slow rain. In the semi-darkness. Cello music is playing in the car. The deep sad sound of the cello. It almost swamps me. Routine endeavours to swamp me. The everyday paying of bills.But I paint men walking in a city of icebergs and crystal. Some of the icebergs are red. I paint a woman swimming in green wavy water. Surrounded by desert mesas. Bright orange in the sunlight. With darker orange for shadows. I paint two people.

God begins to paint the clouds in the eastern sky when the mountains butterflies come flying home

To live is to paint, it is to create; but while we are painting, we are being painted, being created as well!

The sky is a canvas, so paint your own life.

You put your soul into those paintings, and nothing in this world is more beautiful to me than that soul of yours.

My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?"That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?""The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.

You paint the picture of your surroundings. Paint it beautifully.

To paint an image and to write a poem, is to reclaim the dignity and personal joy...it is an invitation for my creative contemplation of an opened mind...it is a storytelling venture on a blank page of paper and white canvases...it is reclaiming my life.

We never realize the power of real love unless we witness or experience a transaction, because real love costs.

In fact, the room was so quiet you might have heard a drop of paint splash.

... from the classically executed lifelike bouquets, tempting you to reach for the petals that fell on a three-dimensional tablecloth, to a new and disturbing style in which the colors seemed to blaze with such intensity they destroyed the old lines, the old solidity, to make a vision like those states which I'm nearest my delirium and flowers grow before my eyes and crackle like the flames of lamps.

It was strange walking through the empty apartment. My battered purple room was gone, Brittany’s bruised blue was gone. Two coats covered everything. It was like none of it had ever happened.

Little decisions over time make a big impact on our lives.

If you can write, paint, or compose without fear, pain, tears or questions, then you are either very blessed or very bland.

And still, still, there is more to describe- we paint because drawing breath is an agony and exhaling an ecstasy and somewhere in the space in-between we think we once found a truth; and the eternal part of us desires to share this truth at all costsonly it's never quite how we pictured it, and it's never quite received the way we wantand the paint drips with our own blood the handles of our brushes are our own bonesour own tears become the words to our most beautiful love songs and we know

Kids are real artists. They’d rather paint the outside of the box than being stuck inside.

Protect the ears of your heart, rather than being drawn in each day like the fading tides that dance daily with the moon.

I would like to paint the way a bird sings.

I wish I had a brush that could paint the whole sky and turn every morning into night. I wish I could always sleep next to you in the never ending night and hold your hand, watching the reflection of all the stars in your eyes, while you smile and watch them in the sky with wonder.

There’s something familiar about the curve of her lower lip. The weight cradled by a soft, slender chin. The bow of her top lip sweeps across it in a way that makes me think of the sun setting on the horizon. A perfect paint stroke of pink to light the sky. -Excerpt from Born Wicked ©2014 A.D. Evans

Like a splendid mosaic of myriad colors, she in all her hues of sensitivity would paint her feelings in your mind’s gray skies. She was the butterfly making you run after her. She was the Zahir, a mirage that transcended borders and time-zones.

I dream of painting and then I paint my dream.

I paint what cannot be photographed, that which comes from the imagination or from dreams, or from an unconscious drive.

You are the creator. Get out that old box of paints and brushes and start drawing love into your life.

I'm interested in all kinds of pictures, however they are made, with cameras, with paint brushes, with computers, with anything.

When I have a terrible need of - shall I say the word - religion. Then I go out and paint the stars.

I thought about how often this was needed in everyday life. How we feel lonely, sometimes to the point of tears, but we don't let those tears come because we are not supposed to cry.

Our bodies are simply our shells, the package for the spirit and the soul.

The spirit of arrogance most definitely makes you shine. It paints a bright red target on your own forehead.

If we give Jesus what we have, what we give Him will never be less.

burnt by the sunof your mouth, I’m unable to speak or paint you with words

Dream in colours, for hues are vibrant. Paint each day with a smile. In days of past, don't grieve; Make new deposit to the pleasant memory bank! Let your life be a reason for others to LIVE.

Wittgenstein likes to assert: "Whereof we cannot speak we must be silent". But skilfully using our hands and manipulating our thoughts can be plausible options to make ourselves understood. So, if we can’t say it, we can show and depict it. Whereof we cannot speak we can paint! ("Happy days are back again")