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Museum Quotes

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Museum Quotes

“I thought of the cool, fresh air of the city I'd always dreamed of living in. The art museums and trolleys and the mysterious fog that blanketed it. I could almost smell the cappuccinos I'd planned to drink in bohemian cafes or hear the indie music in the bookstores I would spend my free time in. I pictured the friends I'd make, my kindred art people, and the dorm room I was supposed to move into.”

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Book:I'll Meet You There
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“The horror was, Cleopatra meant something to these modern people of the twentieth century which was altogether wrong. She had become a symbol of licentiousness, when in fact she had possessed a multitude of amazing talents. They had punished her for her one flaw by forgetting everything else…Remembered, but not for what she was. A painted whore lying on a silken couch. - Ramses”

RealityHistoryPerceptionLiesFalsehoodIncompleteMuseumCleopatra
Book:The Mummy
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“Be no longer willing to be placed in someone’s personal trophy collection only to be dusted off and placed back at their discretion! You are a work of art, made for a museum full of the most valuable pieces! Be who you are, Be one of a kind, Be an ICON, BE AN ICONIC WORK OF ART!”

ArtSelf ConfidenceSelf WorthIconicOne Of A KindMuseumIconTrophyIconic Artist
Book:KYNG SUPA NOVA'S ADVENTURES OPERATION COVID-19: WITH FAMILY WE CAN CONQUER ALL
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“He had been haunted his whole life by a mild case of claustrophobia—the vestige of a childhood incident he had never quite overcome. Langdon’s aversion to closed spaces was by no means debilitating, but it had always frustrated him. It manifested itself in subtle ways. He avoided enclosed sports like racquetball or squash, and he had gladly paid a small fortune for his airy, high-ceilinged Victorian home even though economical faculty housing was readily available. Langdon had often suspected his attraction to the art world as a young boy sprang from his love of museums’ wide open spaces.”

LifeArtHomeHouseSportsChildhoodFortuneAttractionWhole LifeFrustrationSubtleFacultyMuseumsManifestFrustratedHousingAvoidedOvercomeAversionChildhood TraumaArt WorldHauntedAvoidOpen SpacesMuseumSuspectClaustrophobiaWide Open SpacesSuspectedMildIncidentDebilitatingManifestedEconomicalVictorian HomeHigh CeilingsSubtle WaysVestige
Book:Angels & Demons
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“Are you all right, Sir?" asked Hezekiah. "Just fighting over old battles in my mind," said John. "It's the problem with age. You have all these rusty arguments, and no quarrel to use them in. My brain is a museum, but alas, I'm the only visitor, and even I am not terribly interested in the displays." Hezekiah laughed, but there was affection in it. "I would love nothing better than to visit there. But I'm afraid I'd be tempted to loot the place, and carry it all away with me.”

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Book:Heartfire
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“All the fires of hell could burn for a thousand years and it wouldn't equal what I feel for you in one minute of the day. I love you so much there is no pleasure in it. Nothing but torment. Because if I could dilute what I feel for you to the mil­lionth part, it would still be enough to kill you. And even if it drives me mad, I would rather see you live in the arms of that cold, soulless bastard than die in mine," Merripen said to Win.”

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Book:Seduce Me at Sunrise
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“Memory is your museum, your cabinet of curiosities, your 'Wunderkammer.' It will never be full; there is always room for something new and strange and marvelous. It will never need dusting. It will last as long as you do. You can't let the public in to walk around it, but you can take out the exhibits and share them, share what you know. You will never be able to stop collecting.”

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Book:The Museum Book: A Guide to Strange and Wonderful Collections
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“Survival is a funny business, too. A losing game. Literally. They love us, and we lose them all. The ones who made us, the ones who gave us, the ones who sat down and played with us, the ones who held us, or just laid eyes on us. The ones who bought, traded, and sold us. Cleaned us, redeemed us, brought back the sheen on us. Loved us. Learned everything there is to know about us.”

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Book:Metropolitan Stories
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“In the future, churches, mosques, synagogues and temples, all of them will be museums! The intellectual progression of humanity will necessitate such a drastic and dramatic change in the human history!”

Mehmet Murat Ildan QuotesIntellectualDramaticMuseumsTurkish LiteratureTurkish QuotesTurkish WritersMehmet Murat Ildan QuotationsIldan Wise SayingsTurkish Wisdom WordsTurkish PlaywrightsTurkish QuotationsTurkish AuthorsIldan WisdomIldan WordsHuman HistoryProgressionMosquesDrasticMuseumMosqueSinagoguesSinagogue
Author:Mehmet Murat Ildan
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“What are the dead, anyway, but waves and energy? Light shining from a dead star? That, by the way, is a phrase of Julian's. I remember it from a lecture of his on the Iliad, when Patroklos appears to Achilles in a dream. There is a very moving passage where Achilles overjoyed at the sight of the apparition – tries to throw his arms around the ghost of his old friend, and it vanishes. The dead appear to us in dreams, said Julian, because that's the only way they can make us see them; what we see is only a projection, beamed from a great distance, light shining at us from a dead star… Which reminds me, by the way, of a dream I had a couple of weeks ago. I found myself in a strange deserted city – an old city, like London – underpopulated by war or disease. It was night; the streets were dark, bombed-out, abandoned. For a long time, I wandered aimlessly – past ruined parks, blasted statuary, vacant lots overgrown with weeds and collapsed apartment houses with rusted girders poking out of their sides like ribs. But here and there, interspersed among the desolate shells of the heavy old public buildings, I began to see new buildings, too, which were connected by futuristic walkways lit from beneath. Long, cool perspectives of modern architecture, rising phosphorescent and eerie from the rubble. I went inside one of these new buildings. It was like a laboratory, maybe, or a museum. My footsteps echoed on the tile floors.There was a cluster of men, all smoking pipes, gathered around an exhibit in a glass case that gleamed in the dim light and lit their faces ghoulishly from below. I drew nearer. In the case was a machine revolving slowly on a turntable, a machine with metal parts that slid in and out and collapsed in upon themselves to form new images. An Inca temple… click click click… the Pyramids… the Parthenon. History passing beneath my very eyes, changing every moment. 'I thought I'd find you here,' said a voice at my elbow. It was Henry. His gaze was steady and impassive in the dim light. Above his ear, beneath the wire stem of his spectacles, I could just make out the powder burn and the dark hole in his right temple. I was glad to see him, though not exactly surprised. 'You know,' I said to him, 'everybody is saying that you're dead.' He stared down at the machine. The Colosseum… click click click… the Pantheon. 'I'm not dead,' he said. 'I'm only having a bit of trouble with my passport.' 'What?' He cleared his throat. 'My movements are restricted,' he said. 'I no longer have the ability to travel as freely as I would like.' Hagia Sophia. St. Mark's, in Venice. 'What is this place?' I asked him. 'That information is classified, I'm afraid.' 1 looked around curiously. It seemed that I was the only visitor. 'Is it open to the public?' I said. 'Not generally, no.' I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn't time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point. 'Are you happy here?' I said at last. He considered this for a moment. 'Not particularly,' he said. 'But you're not very happy where you are, either.' St. Basil's, in Moscow. Chartres. Salisbury and Amiens. He glanced at his watch. 'I hope you'll excuse me,' he said, 'but I'm late for an appointment.' He turned from me and walked away. I watched his back receding down the long, gleaming hall.”

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Book:The Secret History
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“Now you are walking in Paris all alone in the crowd As herds of bellowing buses drive by Love's anguish tightens your throat As if you were never to be loved again If you lived in the old days you would enter a monastery You are ashamed when you discover yourself reciting a prayer You make fun of yourself and like the fire of Hell your laughter crackles The sparks of your laugh gild the depths of your life It's a painting hanging in a dark museum And sometimes you go and look at it close up”

LovePrayerLaughingPaintingPrayingLaughterParisAnguishCityCrowdMuseumMonastery
Book:Zone
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“Across the distance, the Acropolis museum cradled within its protective walls its legendary treasures, lulling them to a peaceful sleep under the eerie light from the heavens. Yet, through the large window, the five Caryatids stood alert on their strong platform. The ageless maidens with the long braided hair down their backs remained awake even at this hour gazing across to the Acropolis, full of nostalgia for their sacred home. Inside their marble chests, they nurtured as always, precious hope for the return of their long lost sister.”

AntiquityAthensMuseumParthenonAcropolisParthenon Marbles
Book:The Necklace of Goddess Athena
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“He is beset with the idea that should other men discover him, he may be captured and exhibited in a circus or museum, and declares that he will fight for his liberty even to the extent of taking the lives of those attempting to capture him. As a wild animal, he is the property of whomsoever captures him, though perhaps I can set up a title to him on the ground of having tamed him.”

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Book:The Monster of Lake LaMetrie
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“When I go to art museums, I push a bag of midget carrots in a baby stroller, and it feels like the stuff on the wall is watching me. As a fatheresque person of curiosity, I feel misunderstood, but at least The Ducks know me.”

ArtCuriosityAbsurdDucksSurrealDuckDuck QuoteMuseumCarrot
Book:Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.
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“Pay to go inside Neruda's home A body lies there with no dome. But right there in the front hall Lean a fairy against the icy wall. Oh Endless enigmas had the bard! Nice and large and calm backyard Ends In the middle of a rare room Rare portrait of revelishing gloom. Up climbing at the weird snail stair Does make you grasp for some air. And there's a room with bric-a-brac: Old and precious books all in a pack. Dare saying what I liked most of all? Enjoyed seeing visitors having a ball!”

PeopleLoveArtPoetryHouseWomenPoetPoemAncientOddGuestsVisitingOldTourismLyricsVisitorsPrecious ThingsPreciousWallsRarityRareMuseumVisitRhymesOdeTourBardPablo NerudaNerudaArt CollectionArt CollectorOld PieceRhymedAcrostiLa ChasconaPablo Neruda OdePablo Neruda Poetry PopulismPreciosity
Book:ACross Tic
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“C’era forse un posto più noioso al mondo del British Museum? Se c’era, Will non voleva sapere quale. Vasi. Monete. Brocche. Intere sale piene di piatti. Secondo Will doveva esserci uno scopo per mettere in mostra delle cose, e il fatto che fossero vecchie non significava necessariamente che fossero interessanti. Solo perché erano sopravvissute al tempo, non significava che tu volessi guardarle”

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Book:About a Boy
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“Inside the museum [of Egyptian antiquities] itself, on the main floor and in a corner alcove is a box that was never completed [...]. Someone was attempting to cut off a large slab from the bottom in order to likely make the lid. The saws that were being used went off course, causing half of the slab to snap off, and the project was then apparently abandoned [...]. Two circular saws were at work, one from the top and another from the bottom. They were not perfectly aligned but were cutting through the granite stone very efficiently. The only saws we have in modern times that can do such work have diamond abrasives imbedded in either high carbon or cobalt steel blades, powered by very strong electric or petroleum powered engines. As the dynastic Egyptians for most of their history had at best bronze tools, and there is no evidence of them having circular saws, they could not have done this work.”

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Book:Aftershock: The Ancient Cataclysm That Erased Human History
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“The public space of the museum is not my favorite, loud and full of tourists and school groups and hungry hordes. Their curiosity is endearing---they're acolytes for the natural world. And the marble gleams with architectural detail and precious objects all around. But on these, my gray days, entering the building carries the weight of death: all the specimens, thousands of carcasses of every species, stuffed or otherwise retrieved from oblivion so we can know them, yet all dead. The birds I draw and paint, all dead. On these days, my only defense is to imagine every pinned butterfly taking wing, every stuffed marsupial waking up, every preserved plant specimen blooming and carpeting the marble floor like a time-lapse forest, and every bird coming to life, flying up to the dome and away. On the days when the fog comes and hooks into my gut like a sharp-toothed parasite, these visions can save me. The steadier, more consistent salvation, of course, is the work. I can lose myself for hours drawing, for instance, the common loon, with its inky head, white banding at the neck, and an intricacy of pin dots and fractured rectangles cascading across the wings. With the right precision, I can bring the deadness of a bird skin to a striking facsimile of life.”

ArtistLife And DeathMuseumSmithsonianOrnithologyField Of Study
Book:The Marsh Queen
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“As departments, we aren't very respectful of one another. The geologists are the Rock People and Delores and Ginger are the Plant People. Here in Ornithology, we're the Bird People, the ichthyologists are the Fish People, the entomologists are the Bug People, those in Paleo are the Bone People, and Anthro is just Antho, because otherwise we'd have to call them the People People.”

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Book:The Marsh Queen
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“Mocht mijn mening enig gezag hebben gehad, dan had ik qua beeld voor het schilderij van de Dulle Griet gepleit. Het is een wonder dat we dit bijzondere doek van de Oude Bruegel zomaar in een zaaltje van een klein museum kunnen bezichtigen, alleen dat al geeft aan wat we zijn in deze stad en het doek zelf geeft evenveel prijs. De terreur hangt daar open en bloot, het roven aan de mond van de hel. Het is niet omdat een mens er weinig moeite voor moet doen dat een onthulling geen onthulling blijkt. Die Dulle Griet raast en daast door een landschap vol oorlog en herinnering in felrood, bruin en zwart. Haar ogen staan wijd opengesperd zodat ze alles en niets ziet. Heeft zij deze verschrikking veroorzaakt of maakt ze louter deel uit van deze smeerlapperij en speelt ze het spel mee? Op een schone zaterdag moet ge toch eens naar dat museum gaan om het allemaal in u op te nemen.”

MuseumOorlogTerreurHelDulle GroetOnthullingPieter Bruegel ISmeerlapperijVerschrikking
Book:WIL
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“As long as museums and universities send out expeditions to bring to light new forms of living and extinct animals and new data illustrating the interrelations of organisms and their environments, as long as anatomists desire a broad comparative basis human for anatomy, as long as even a few students feel a strong curiosity to learn about the course of evolution and relationships of animals, the old problems of taxonomy, phylogeny and evolution will gradually reassert themselves even in competition with brilliant and highly fruitful laboratory studies in cytology, genetics and physiological chemistry.”

ScienceStudyEvolutionDataBiologyLaboratoryGeneticsAnatomyMuseumUniversitiesTaxonomyCytologyPhylogenyPhysiological Chemistry
Author:William King Gregory
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