Everything passes, and what remains of former times, what remains of life, is the spiritual. In everything we do, the claim of the Absolute is unchanging.
Paul KleeRead
Everything vanishes round me and good works rise from me of their own accord.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote expresses the idea that creativity flows naturally from the artist, regardless of their surroundings.
In this quote, Paul Klee conveys a profound understanding of the creative process, suggesting that an artist's true expression emerges effortlessly, like good works coming forth from within, independent of external influences. This highlights the intrinsic nature of artistic creation, where inspiration arises organically, illuminating the importance of inner vision and creativity over the external world.
Themes
CreativityArtInspirationExpressionSelf
In practice
Example use cases
A motivational speech about pursuing oneβs passion in art.
More from Paul Klee
All quotes βThe painter should not paint what he sees, but what will be seen.
Paul KleeRead
To emphasize only the beautiful seems to me to be like a mathematical system that only concerns itself with positive numbers.
Paul KleeRead
You adapt yourself to the contents of the paintbox.
Paul KleeRead
It is a great difficulty and a great necessity to have to start with the smallest.
Paul KleeRead
All art is a memory of age-old things, dark things, whose fragments live on in the artist.
Paul KleeRead
Similar quotes
He moved like a dancer, which is not surprising; a horse is a beautiful animal, but it is perhaps most remarkable because it moves as if it always hears music.
Mark HelprinRead
The alchemy of good curating amounts to this: Sometimes, placing one work of art near another makes one plus one equal three. Two artworks arranged alchemically leave each intact, transform both, and create a third thing.
Jerry SaltzRead
When we don't have all the details about our characters, we have to make it up to fill in all the details. So, for me, writing and acting go hand in hand.
Octavia SpencerRead
Ballet in the air... Twin butterflies until, twice white They Meet, they mate
Matsuo BashoRead
Any time is the time to make a poem.
Gertrude SteinRead
Oh! Moon of Alabama We now must say good-bye We've lost our good old mama And must have whiskey Oh, you know why!
Bertolt BrechtRead