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Quote by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

“The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake”

Quote by Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

Work

A Man Without a Country

A fictional narrative that delves into the psychological and emotional journey of an individual who feels disconnected from their homeland and society. more

Author

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

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“The body of the Word, then, being a real human body, in spite of its having been uniquely formed from a virgin, was of itself mortal and, like other bodies, liable to death. But the indwelling of the Word loosed it from this natural liability, so that corruption could not touch it. Thus is happened that two opposite marvels took place at once: the death of all was consummated in the Lord's body; yet, because the Word was in it, death and corruption were in the same act utterly abolished.”

“The books that lined the walls from floor to ceiling sat there quietly, never calling out for attention or advertising themselves with gaudy covers. But even if they appeared to be nothing more than unadorned paper boxes from the outside, they exuded a beauty equal to anything created by a sculptor or potter. Even though the meaning of the words printed on their pages was so profound it could never have been contained by those boxes, the books never let on to their depths. They waited patiently until someone picked them up and opened their covers.”

“at this centre are the great primitive emotions common to all men. The religious group, the deep awe and reverence men feel when contemplating the great mystery of the Universe and their own littleness in the face of its vastness - the desire to correspond and develop relationship with the something outside themselves that is felt to be behind and through all things. Then there are those connected with the joy of life, the throbbing of the great life spirit, the gladness of being, the desire of the sexes; and also those connected with the sadness and mystery of death and decay,”

“Artists choose their purpose as much as they are chosen by that purpose. In a certain way, art is a revolt against the world in that it encompasses what is fleeting and unfinished: art does not, therefore, take on anything more than the purpose of giving another shape to a reality that it is, nevertheless, constrained to conserve, because reality is the source of art’s emotion. In this respect, we are all realists and no one is a realist. Art is neither total rejection nor total acceptance of what is. It is both rejection and acceptance, at one and the same time, and that is why it can be continually and perpetually torn apart. Artists always find themselves dealing with this ambiguity, incapable of rejecting what is real, yet still devoted to challenging the ever-unfinished aspects of reality.”