The artist, like the God of creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.
JAMES JOYCE, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Take a quart of nature, boil it down to a pint, and the residue is art.
AUSTIN O’MALLEY, Keystones of Thought
True art, like nature, ever bears
Suggestions of some higher thing;
As more than form or tint of bird
We prize the song he stops to sing.
EDITH WILLIS LINN FORBES, “A Landscape in Oils”