| "You know how to paint a room real fast Just put paint rollers on your feet and somehow figure out how to skate up the walls and across the ceiling." »Jack Handey Deep Thoughts |
| "I remember how my Great Uncle Jerry would sit on the porch and whittle all day long. Once he whittled me a toy boat out of a larger toy boat I had. It was almost as good as the first one, except now it had bumpy whittle marks all over it. And no paint, because he had whittled off the paint." »Jack Handey Deep Thoughts |
| "You are looking as fresh as paint." »F. E. Smedley |
| "It's a small world, but I wouldn't want to paint it." »Steven Wright |
| "A ship is always referred to as 'she' because it costs so much to keep one in paint and powder." »Chester William Nimitz |
| "Every time I paint a portrait I lose a friend." »John Singer Sargent |
| "You cannot slander human nature it is worse than words can paint it." »Charles Haddon Spurgeon |
| "Life is a great big canvas throw all the paint on it you can." »Danny Kaye |
| "The way money goes so fast these days, they should paint racing stripes on it." »Mark Russell |
| "A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What one can be, one must be." »Abraham Maslow |
| "Millions must plough and forge and dig in order that a few thousand may write and paint and study." »Heinrich Gotthard von Treitschke |
| "That's not painting, that's paint-By-Numbers. That's therapy for the artistically challenged. That's what they prescribe for cretins in dayrooms." »Jeff Melvoin |
| "Be aware of wonder. Live a balanced life--learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some." »Robert |
| "If you were in a burning house and there was a cat and a Rembrandt, what would you save The cat...you would save the cat, because the cat is alive. The art is dead. It's just paint on a canvas, ink on a page. To live for art is to deny life. It's just to destroy life." »Andrew Schneider |
| "Alas, poor Yorick I knew him, Horatio a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He hath borne me on his back a thousand times and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now your gambols, your songs your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar Not one now, to mock your own grinning Quite chap-fallen Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come." »William Shakespeare |
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