Quote by Boris Pasternak
Art has two constant, two unending concerns: It always meditates o

Art has two constant, two unending concerns: It always meditates on death and thus always creates life. All great, genuine art resembles and continues the Revelation of St John. – Boris Pasternak

Other quotes by Boris Pasternak

Literature is the art of discovering something extraordinary about ordinary people, and saying with ordinary words something extraordinary. – Boris Pasternak

Category:
Art
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I come here to speak poetry. It will always be in the grass. It will also be necessary to bend down to hear it. It will always be too simple to be discussed in assemblies. – Boris Pasternak

Category:
Poetry
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You fall into my arms. You are the good gift of destructions path, When life sickens more than disease. And boldness is the root of beauty. Which draws us together. – Boris Pasternak

Category:
Beauty
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Other Quotes from
Death
category

It is natural to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes to that siren until she allures us to our death. – Gertrude Stein

Category:
Death

Loss and possession, death and life are one, There falls no shadow where there shines no sun. – Hilaire Belloc

Category:
Death

In my solitude I have pondered much on the incomprehensible subjects of space, eternity, life and death. – Alfred Russel Wallace

Category:
Death

I put for the general inclination of all mankind, a perpetual and restless desire of power after power, that ceaseth only in death. – Thomas Hobbes

Category:
Death

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When you have a family, or even when youre just seeing a girl, its difficult to be skint. – Bill Nighy

Category:
Family

I think togetherness is a very important ingredient to family life. – Barbara Bush

Category:
Family

In any small town, sports are really important to the high school, and I wasnt very good at sports. – Martina McBride

Category:
Sports

There is no royal path to good writing; and such paths as do exist do not lead through neat critical gardens, various as they are, but through the jungles of self, the world, and of craft. – Jessamyn West, Saturday Review, 1957 September 21st

Category:
Writing