Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Evocative. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Evocative Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Eduard Hanslick,Eli Siegel,Egerton Brydges,Alfred Kazin,John Keats for you to enjoy and share.
An art aims, above all, at producing something beautiful which affects not our feelings but the organ of pure contemplation, our imagination.
Art can make the old surprising, and the new and sudden soothing.
To delight the ear and the eye is a mere sensual indulgence; - true poetry strikes at the soul.
Altogether beautiful in the power of its feeling. As beautiful as anything in Thoreau or Hemingway.
Poetry should surprise by a fine excess and not by singularity, it should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance.
There is no eloquence which does not agitate the soul.
A visual experience is vitalizing. Whereas to write great poetry, to draw continuously on one's inner life, is not merely exhausting, it is to keep alight a consuming fire.
The size of her heart left me breathless. The scope of her empathy left me stunned. The depth of my love left me terrified.
The poetic image is a sudden salience on the surface of the psyche
Mournful and yet grand is the destiny of the artist.
If I go to the National Gallery and I look at one of the great paintings that excite me there, it's not so much the painting that excites me as that the painting unlocks all kinds of valves of sensation within me which return me to life more violently.
This splendid vision dwelt in her memory as the most beautiful thing that it was possible to dream, so that now she strove to recall her sensation. That still lasted, however, but in a less exclusive fashion and with a deeper sweetness. Her soul, tortured by
The faster the word sticks to the thought, the more beautiful is the effect.
And that Aha! that you get when you see an artwork that really hits you is, 'I am that.' I am the very radiance of energy that is talking to me through this painting.
The imaginative faculty of the soul must be fed with objects immense and eternal.
What makes art powerful is a flash of recognition, a frightening encounter with something familiar about the human condition.
I was dominated, soul, brain, and power, by you. You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream. I
Beautiful music stimulates beautiful thoughts.
The truly modern artist is aware of abstraction in an emotion of beauty.
Every true work of art must express a distinct feeling.
You became to me the visible incarnation of that unseen ideal whose memory haunts us artists like an exquisite dream.
If [writing] lift you from your feet with the great voice of eloquence, then the effect is to be wide, slow, permanent, over the minds of men; ...
Words are poor interpreters in the realms of emotion. When all words end, music begins; when they suggest, it realizes; and hence is the secret of its strange, inexpressible power.
Art distills sensations and embodies it with enhanced meaning.
How much more sensuality invites to art than does sentimentality.
Once the object has been constructed, I have a tendency to discover in it, transformed and displaced, images, impressions, facts which have deeply moved me.
Sometimes when looking through my pile of drawings, I find an image that ... awakens in me a passionate desire to inhabit it, as though I were to feel more at home in it than in myself.
I felt a sensation of candour and amplitude, of the body and mind opened up, of thought diffusing at the body's edges rather than ending at the skin.
I have felt a presence that disturbs me with the joy of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime of something far more deeply interfused, whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, and the round ocean, and the living air, and the blue sky, and in the mind of man ...
She was incomparable in her inspired loveliness. Her arms amazed one, as one can be astonished by a lofty way of thinking. Her shadow on the wallpaper of the hotel room seemed the silhouette of her uncorruption.
most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mysterious. It is the power of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead.
Perhaps things are most beautiful when they are not quite real; when you look upon a scene as an outsider, and come to possess it in its entirety and forever; when you live in the present with the lucidity and feeling of memory; when, for want of connection, the world deepens and becomes art.
All natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence.
Every moment some form grows perfect in hand or face; some tone on the hills or the sea is choicer than the rest; some mood of passion or insight or intellectual excitement is irresistibly real and attractive for us - for that moment only.
How beautiful it is to feel that what you cannot describe?
A great poet can give wings to abstract thoughts that touch a reader's mind with the ecstasy of joy.
In simple hearts the feeling for the beauty and grandeur of nature is a hundred-fold stronger and more vivid than in us, ecstatic composers of narratives in words and on paper.
Watching the vast ocean, the flickering sunlight, thinking of the distant lands, Eliza was enveloped by a feeling quite unlike any she'd experienced before. A warmth, a glimpse of possibility, an absence of wariness-
It has become apparent that art can have a startling impact without really being or saying anything startling - or new. The character itself of being startling, spectacular, or upsetting has become conventionalized, part of safe good taste.
At lucky moments this emanation could overwhelm the spectator in such a way, that because of all sorts of associations in his thinking, he could finally be taken to those areas which also had moved me so deeply and made me think I should draw the attention of others to it.
Nothing as drastic an innovation as abstract art could have come in to existence, save as the consequence of a most profound, relentless, unquenchable need. The need is for felt experience - intense, immediate, direct, subtle, unified, warm, vivid, rhythmic.
Art can permeate the very deepest part of us, where no words exist.
Evoking memories, particularly of days gone by.
Nothing in the world is so compelling to the emotions as the mind of another human being
Eloquence, at its highest pitch, leaves little room for reason or reflection, but addresses itself entirely to the desires and affections, captivating the willing hearers, and subduing their understanding.
Art makes the familiar strange so that it can be freshly perceived. To do this it presents its material in unexpected, even outlandish ways: the shock of the new.
Words are capable of making experience more vivid, and also of organizing it. They can scare us, and they can comfort us.
I had no idea words could have so much power and beauty.
What beauty there is in words; what a lurking curious charm in the sound some words.
In a dreamlike state, with eyes closed (I found the daylight too unpleasantly glaring), I perceived an uninterrupted stream of fantastic pictures, extraordinary shapes with intense, kaleidoscopic play of colors,
A happy entanglement of warm limbs and warmer love. A physical and psychological merging that conjured a kind of inner light, a bio-emotional phosphorescence that was overwhelming in its gorgeousness.
Everything about her exuded a certain calmness, an unfathomable tranquillity. Her body, her smile, and her mesmerizing eyes all came together to form a lively painting of timeless allure.
Rippling, rippling, rippling, like a flapping overlapping of soft flames, soft as feathers, running to points of brilliance, exquisite, exquisite and melting her all molten inside.
The light in her eyes was beyond description, yet it did not instill improper thoughts: it inspired a love tempered by awe, purifying the hearts it inflamed.
Eloquence; it requires the pleasant and the real; but the pleasant must itself be drawn from the true.
Things that are indelicate can sometimes be beautiful.
Every artistic form reflects the dynamism that is constantly building up the life of feeling.
Art can excite, titillate, please, entertain, and sometimes shock; but its ultimate function is to ennoble.
I like the way the word feels against my mouth - soft, unassuming, even soothing.
Thoughts have unique beauties you will never able to express it in words.
I like things to reverberate, to be suggestive.
The sky was electric blue above the trees but the yard felt dark. Stephanie went to the edge of the lawn and sat her forehead on her knees. The grass and soil were still warm from the day. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. The feeling was too deep.
Natural elegance inspires the mind.
The unexpected explosion of color and noise and beauty in her world has left her awed.
Gazing on beautiful things acts on my soul.
Art is an emotional experience
His expression was somehow both cruel and dripping with affection. Devastating. And I thought perhaps I'd lost a piece of my mind, a part of my soul, because my mouth watered and my body hummed with need that bordered on unhealthy. Vivid. Violent. Dangerous.
For all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings...
All of consciousness is shifted from the imagined, the revisive, to the effort to perceive simply the cruel radiance of what is
The sight of anything extremely beautiful, in nature or in art, brings back the memory of what one loves, with the speed of lightning.
When we are bursting with some wordless experience, Art is our voice, the song of the heart.
Words strike the air and the mind, they act on the senses and on the soul.
Thou didst, in strains of eloquence refin'd, Inflame the soul, and captivate the mind.
While it is emotion that gives an impulse to the landscape painter, it is his style that inspires the critic's praise, and his subject that inveigles the untutored beholder.
It was a scent that lacked coyness, made no concessions to charm. Like standing on the edge of a great and terrifying cliff, it was shocking, beautiful, sublime.
I took a walk, Suddenly I stood still, filled with the realization that I had no body or mind. All I could see was one great illuminating Whole - omnipresent, perfect, lucid and serene.
The sweetest softest melody, as good a sound as the laughter of a pretty girl, or your mother calling you to dinner.
Silence is, after all, the context for the deepest appreciation of art: the only important evaluations are finally, personal, interior ones.
The pressed oil of words can blaze up into music, into image, into the heart and mind's knowledge. The lit and shadowed places within us can be warmed.
It was wild and dark and grand and tall and fierce and haunting all at once. And it thrilled me to the core. It thrilled me and it frightened me, for it whipped at my carefully closeted heart, much as the wind had whipped at my hair and skirts and sent my bonnet tumbling.
My paintings and sculptures, at first glance, may appear to be purely aesthetic; closer up, they are not. They hold a feeling of tentativeness, combined with a sense of arrival.
There is nothing more beautiful, I think, than the evanescent fleeting images and sentiments presented by a language one is just becoming familiar with - ideas that flit across the mental sky, shaped and tinted by capricious fancy.
His eyes looked directly at her, and she felt something jump inside. The eyes, the voice, the face, the silver hair, the easy way he moved his body, old ways, disturbing ways, ways that draw you in. Ways that whisper to you in the final moment before sleep comes, when the barriers have fallen.
Words are miraculous things. They describe, captivate, provoke, vivify, encompass, pervade, inspire, preserve, and comfort. So much more than that, in fact, so as to leave me at a loss of ... words.
Gazing into his eyes, I was lost in their intensity. It was like looking into the bluest sky and carrying on to infinity. I felt mesmerised, hypnotised and transfixed all at once.
I endeavor to make a picture, for instance, exert a positive influence on the observer by its coloring, mood, and compositional idea, encouraging, say, activation, tranquilization, concentration, or harmony ...
Eloquent and moving ... an extraordinary testament to the enduring power of love - beyond faith and dogma. It reminds us of why we are here: to love and live fully, to be curious about all things, and to live a compassionate - and passionate - authentic life.
The pleasure of eloquence is in greatest part owing often to the stimulus of the occasion which produces it- - to the magic of sympathy, which exalts the feeling of each by radiating on him the feeling of all.
It is hard to describe the thrill of creative joy which the artist feels when the conviction seizes her that at last she has caught the very soul of the character she wishes to portray, in the music and action which reveal it.
The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider's web.
her words, rather than functioning as a mere decoration of the experience, actually deepened its reality. It was the first time that I felt the power of language to intensify life. The
I need scarcely observe that a poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. The value of the poem is in the ratio of this elevating excitement.
There's a difference between describing and evoking something. You can describe something and be quite clinical about it. To evoke it, you call it up in the reader. That's what writers do when they're good.
Yet Clare's love was doubtless ethereal to a fault, imaginative to impracticability. With these natures, corporeal presence is sometimes less appealing than corporeal absence; the latter creating an ideal presence that conveniently drops the defects of the real.
Nature is a mere pretext for a decorative composition, plus sentiment. It suggests emotion, and I translate that emotion into art.
Your work has been described as touching the soul of the reader. That's the way I felt. Feel. Honestly. You've touched my soul. I'm sorry if I sound like a middle-aged librarian at a book-autographing session.
To awaken human emotion is the highest level of art.
Platitudes are poor substitutes for emotions, this negative space hollowed out and without words. I know the shape of you and it has no name. I know the sound of you and the smell of you and the touch and sight and taste of you. But language departed the same day you did, leaving my mouth empty.
Abstract art has helped us to experience the emotional power inherent in pure form.
When someone can fill such words with the depth of meaning that they are intended to have, it's like hearing them for the first time.