Howard Pyle Quotes

It doth make a man better,' quoth Robin Hood, 'to bear of those noble men so long ago. When one doth list to such tales, his soul doth say, 'put by thy poor little likings and seek to do likewise.' Truly, one may not do as nobly one's self, but in the striving one is better.

What is done is done; and the cracked egg cannot be cured.

The stories of childhood leave an indelible impression, and their author always has a niche in the temple of memory from which the image is never cast out to be thrown on the rubbish heap of things that are outgrown and outlived.

When the flood cometh it sweepeth away grain as well as chaff.

Young people, don't get the idea that you have an artistic temperament which must be humored. Don't believe you cannot do good work unless you feel in tile mood for it. That is all nonsense. I frequently have to force myself to make a start in the morning; but after a short while I find I can work. Only hard and regular work will bring success.

(H)ope, be it never so faint, bringeth a gleam into darkness, like a little rushlight that costeth but a groat.

Will you come with me, sweet Reader? I thank you. Give me your hand.

An I must drink sour ale, I must, but never have I yielded me to man before, and that without wound or mark upon my body. Nor, when I bethink me, will I yield now.

If in making a picture you introduce two ideas, you weaken it by half-if three, it weakens by compound ratio-if four, the picture will be really too weak to consider at all and the human interest would be entirely lost.

Art is the expression of those beauties and emotions that stir the human soul.

He who jumps for the moon and gets it not leaps higher than he who stoops for a penny in the mud.

The right to suffer is one of the joys of a free economy.

Throw your heart into the picture and then jump in after it.

For ages past the Genius of Literature and the Genius of Art have walked together hand in hand. For the Goddess of letters is blind, and only she of Art can lend her sight.

The student learns rules but all the rules in the world never make a picture.

You who so plod amid serious things that you feel it shame to give yourself up even for a few short moments to mirth and joyousness in the land of Fancy; you who think that life hath not to do with innocent laughter that can harm no one; these pages are not for you.

So passed the seasons then, so they pass now, and so they will pass in time to come, while we come and go like leaves of the tree that fall and are soon forgotten.