It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.
Ezra PoundRead
No picture is made to endure nor to live with but it is made to sell and sell quickly with usura, sin against nature, is thy bread ever more of stale rags is thy bread dry as paper.
Interpretation
Art's purpose is often commercial rather than for long-lasting appreciation.
In this quote, Ezra Pound criticizes the commercialized nature of art, suggesting that art is primarily created for the purpose of selling rather than for enduring beauty or lasting connection. He implies that the relentless pursuit of profit diminishes the quality and integrity of artistic expression, reducing it to mere commodities that lack depth, much like stale bread or dry paper.
In practice
This quote can be used during a discussion on the commercialization of art in modern society.
It is difficult to write a paradiso when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse.
The ant's a centaur in his dragon world. Pull down thy vanity, it is not man Made courage, or made order, or made grace, Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down. Learn of the green world what can be thy place In scaled invention or true artistry, Pull down thy vanity, Paquin pull down! The green casque has outdone your elegance.
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours Forever and forever and forever.
Literature does not exist in a vacuum. Writers as such have a definite social function exactly proportional to their ability as writers. This is their main use.
In our time, the curse is monetary illiteracy, just as inability to read plain print was the curse of earlier centuries.
The modern artist must live by craft and violence. His gods are violent gods. Those artists, so called, whose work does not show this strife, are uninteresting.
There is so much that glows in the circus, from flames to lanterns to stars. I have heard the expression “trick of the light” applied to sights within Le Cirque des Reves so frequently that I sometimes suspect the entirety of the circus is itself a complex illusion of illumination” .
My greatest joy comes from creativity: from feeling that I have been able to identify a certain aspect of human nature and crystallise a phenomenon in words.
Writing, real writing, should leave a small sweet bruise somewhere on the writer . . . and on the reader.
It is the job of poetry to clean up our word-clogged reality by creating silences around things.
To him the stars seemed like so many musical notes affixed to the sky, just waiting for somebody to unfasten them. Someday the sky would be emptied, but by then the earth would be a constellation of musical scores
I don't live for the accolades. I'm more so about the music. Making it, and putting it out. Those are the two best feelings.
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