But however good you get at translating personality into line or paint it’s no go if your personality isn’t worth translating.
– John Fowles
Related Quotes:
- The gray paint peels off the wall in odd and beautiful patterns, each cracked polygon of paint a snowflake of decay. – John Green
- The line of head is strong, but the line of heart is weak. And most importantly, the line of life is short. The stars do not seem to be right. – Vikas Swarup
- Reconstructing the past is rather like translating poetry. It can be done, but never exactly. – Norman Davies
- Comics know that time plus pain equals humor and that we can redeem even awful moments from the past by translating them into a shared experience. – Gina Barreca
- Translating from #cat is easy – you just ignore everything, then you decide what you want it to have said, thought, or wanted. – Will Advise
- I don’t paint what people expect, I paint what my heart yearns to express. – Nikki Rowe
- I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality. – Frida Kahlo
- I never paint dreams or nightmares, I paint my own reality. – Farida kahlo
- You paint the picture of your surroundings. Paint it beautifully. – AD Posey
- The personality susceptible to the dream of limitless freedom is a personality also prone, should the dream ever sour, to misanthropy and rage. – Jonathan Franzen
- Your attitude defines your personality. Your personality refines your attitude. Together they make up your character. – Tanya Masse
- In our age it is not sex that raises its ugly head, but love. – John Fowles
- I’m a blank canvas that I can paint however I desire. For the first time ever, I get to be the character in my own fantasy land. – EK Blair
- You are enough, you are worth it, Worth every ballad, worth every word, every action. – R YS Perez
- I was its skin, its movement, its shape, its god, its creator, its destroyer. And you thought Dexter was bad. The Bridgeman arrives soon. – Catherine Astolfo
- Since I am I, I must make an act of self-surrender, however small or however easy, in living to God rather than to my self. – CS Lewis
- However fast you run, or however skilfully, you can’t run away from your own feet. – Idries Shah
- However impatient she might be in the day, however filled with little sudden angers, at night she was all tenderness. – Pearl S Buck
- Liking other people is an illusion we have to cherish in ourselves if we are to live in society. – John Fowles
- Art’s cruel. You can get away with murder with words. But a picture is like a window straight through to your inmost heart. – John Fowles
- The evolution of human mentality has put us all in vitro now, behind the glass wall of our own ingenuity. – John Fowles
- Thus it had come about that she had read far more fiction, and far more poetry, those two sanctuaries of the lonely, than most of her kind. – John Fowles
- Henry knew sin was a challenge to life; not an act of unreason, but an act of courage and determination. – John Fowles
- Girls possess sexual tact in inverse proportion to their standard of education. – John Fowles
- For him the tragedy of Homo sapiens is that the least fit to survive breed the most. – John Fowles
- The power of women! I’ve never felt so full of mysterious power. Men are a joke. – John Fowles
- She smiled at him as they waited for their dessert, her chin poised on her clasped hands.’You’re being very silent.”That’s how men cry. – John Fowles
- Wolves don’t hunt singly, but always in pairs. The lone wolf was a myth. – John Fowles
- He had the charm of all people who believe implicitly in themselves, that of integration. – John Fowles
- If there is a God he’s a great loathsome spider in the darkness. – John Fowles
- The height the dupe has fallen is measured by his anger. – John Fowles
- Piers is always going on about how he hated Stowe. As if that solves everything, as if to hate something means it can’t have affected you. – John Fowles
- I hate beyond hate. – John Fowles
- If anything might hurt her, silence would; and I wanted to hurt her. – John Fowles
- …there are times when silence is a poem. – John Fowles
- That is how war corrupts us. It plays on our pride in our own free will. – John Fowles
- …and his eyes had that splendid innocence, that opaque blue candour of the satanically fallen. ~ The French Lieutenant’s Woman – John Fowles
- The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night? – John Fowles
- He was one of the most supremely stupid men I have ever met. He taught me a great deal. – John Fowles
- Sometimes to return is a vulgarity. – John Fowles