There is no definition to love. It is a feeling.
Love cannot be explained, yet it explains all.
Love is too large, too deep ever to be truly understood or measured or limited within the framework of words.
According to quantum field theory, fields alone are real. They are the substance of the universe and not 'matter'. Matter is simply the momentary manifestation of interacting fields which, intangible and insubstantial as they are, are the only real things in the universe.
You can't put being in love on a scale. Either you are or you aren't.
Surely Love is a wonderful thing. It is more precious than emeralds, and dearer than fine opals. Pearls and pomegranates cannot buy it, nor is it set forth in the marketplace. It may not be purchased of the merchants, for can it be weighed out in the balance for gold.
I can't say what makes a picture. I can't say. It's mysterious.
Music addresses us from beyond the borders of the natural world
There is a wonderful expression: seeing through a glass darkly. Everything, even life, is inevitably removed from you. You can't reach, or touch, the real. You just see reflections
A great building must begin with the unmeasurable, must go through measurable means when it is being designed and in the end must be unmeasurable.
Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.
In the theater, everything is ephemeral. Everything is almost weightless and without a very clear definition of how you made it.
... does it seem to you that it is possible to speak of Art? It would be the same as explaining love!
A perfume is more than an extract it is a presence in abstraction. A perfume, for me, is a mystique.
Truth ... Is a breath, a wind, A shadow, a phantom; Long have I pursued it, But never have I touched The hem of its garment.
You can't measure what's inside a man's heart.
This is a book about Heaven. I know it now. It floats among us like a cloud and is the realest thing we know and the least to be captured, the least to be possessed by anybody for himself. It is like a grain of mustard seed, which you cannot see among the crumbs of earth where it lies. It is like the reflection of the trees on the water.
In art there is only one thing that counts: the bit that cannot be explained.
I don't know that I could really define love. I can't . . . again, it's like trying to define what this creative force is. It's beyond my ability to really define. If I can define it, then it's not it. We're right back to that thing again.
Love is a mystery which, when solved, evaporates. The same holds for music.
The softest of stuff in the world, penetrates quickly the hardest, insubstantial, it enters where there is no room.
The idea is more important than the object.
If it had and answer, it wouldn't really be love, would it?
Dreams weigh nothing. - Marie Antoinette
Genius is the ability to see things invisible, to manipulate things intangible, to paint things that have no features
