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"Time and death: It's the ultimate vision of an artist at the end of everything. It's just what's there. It was not something I planned to do."
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"Poetry most often communicates emotions, not directly, but by creating imaginatively the grounds for those emotions. It therefore communicates something more than the emotion; only by means of that something more does it communicate the emotion at all."
"We often forget to draw a new picture because we are so busy criticizing other paintings."
"A beautiful poem is nothing but a mirror of philosophy through which we can see life's pure beauty."
"Poets create a beautiful blue sky where you can fly with wings of imagination and find yourself again and again."
"The object of art is to enhance the beauty, imaginations and joy of life."
"A picture may be worth a thousand words, but those well-arranged words are worth a multi-million-dollar motion picture."
"Literature tries to express the intricate inner beauties of life. Philosophy tries to explain the intricate inner beauties and conflicts of thoughts."
Explore more quotes by Don DeLillo
"All that incoherence. Selection, election, option, alternative. All behind him now. Codes and formats. Courses of action. Values, bias, predilection. Choice is a subtle form of disease."
"A writer takes earnest measures to secure his solitude and then finds endless ways to squander it."
"People get bitten. But I won't.' I found myself saying, 'You will, you will. These snakes don't know you find death inconceivable. They don't know you're young and strong and you think death applies to everyone but you. They will bite you and you will die."
"When a writer doesn't show his face, he becomes a local symptom of God's famous reluctance to appear."
"Secrets are an exalted state, almost a dream state. They're a way of arresting motion, stopping the world so we can see ourselves in it."
"How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn't they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?"
"We feel a private thrill, admit it, at the sight of beauty in flames. We wish to blast all the fine old things to oblivion and replace them with tasteless identicalstructures."
"Think of the great poetry, the music and dance and ritual that spring forth from our aspiring to a life beyond death. Maybe these things are justification enough for our hopes and dreams, although I wouldn't say that to a dying man."
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