Thou art a man God is no more Thy own humanity Learn to adore
William BlakeRead
The Man who never in his Mind & Thoughts travel'd to Heaven Is No Artist.
Interpretation
An artist must have a vision and imagination that transcends reality.
William Blake's quote suggests that true artistry requires the ability to envision and conceptualize beyond the mundane aspects of life. An artist's mind should explore the realms of imagination and creativity, ideally aspiring to express experiences and ideas that elevate human understanding and inspire others.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the importance of creativity in the arts.
Thou art a man God is no more Thy own humanity Learn to adore
In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.
O thou who passest through our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! Thou, O Summer, Oft pitchest here thy golden tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.
Every Night and every Morn Some to Misery are born. Every Morn and every Night Some are born to Sweet Delight, Some are born to Endless Night.
As the caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys.
He who would do good to another must do it in minute particulars.
When I worked on a magazine, I learned that there are many, many writers writing that can't write at all; and they keep on writing all the cliches and bromides and 1890 plots, and poems about Spring and poems about Love, and poems they think are modern because they are done in slang or staccato style, or written with all the 'i's' small.
So many women characters are extensions of male fantasy.
Don't try to be original. Be simple. Be good technically, and if there is something in you, it will come out.
I have fallen in love with the imagination. And if you fall in love with the imagination, you understand that it is a free spirit. It will go anywhere, and it can do anything.
I gathered poets around me and we all wrote beautiful erotica. As we were condemned to focus only on sensuality, we had violent explosions of poetry. Writing erotica became a road to sainthood rather than to debauchery.
Prose is not to be read aloud but to oneself alone at night, and it is not quick as poetry but rather a gathering web of insinuations ... Prose should be a long intimacy between strangers with no direct appeal to what both may have known. It should slowly appeal to feelings unexpressed, it should in the end draw tears out of the stone.
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