Statue Quotes

“A statue isn't built from the ground up -- it's chiseled out of a block of marble -- and I often wonder if we aren't likewise shaped by the qualities we lack, outlined by the empty space where the marble used to be. I'll be sitting on a train. I'll be lying awake in bed. I'll be watching a movie; I'll be laughing. And then, all of a sudden, I'll be struck with the paralyzing truth: It's not what we do that makes us who are. It's what we don't do that defines us.”
― Raphael Bob-Waksberg, Someone Who Will Love You in All Your Damaged Glory

“Heroes and scholars represent the opposite extremes... The scholar struggles for the benefit of all humanity, sometimes to reduce physical effort, sometimes to reduce pain, and sometimes to postpone death, or at least render it more bearable. In contrast, the patriot sacrifices a rather substantial part of humanity for the sake of his own prestige. His statue is always erected on a pedestal of ruins and corpses... In contrast, all humanity crowns a scholar, love forms the pedestal of his statues, and his triumphs defy the desecration of time and the judgment of history.”
― Santiago Ramón y Cajal, Advice for a Young Investigator

“Suddenly I saw in front of me the Statue of the Faun, the Statue that I love above all others. There was his calm, faintly smiling face; there was his forefinger gently pressed to his lips. [...] Hush! he told me. Be comforted!”
― Susanna Clarke, Piranesi

“Lycurgus was of opinion that ornaments were so far from advantaging them in their counsels, that they were rather an hindrance, by diverting their attention from the business before them to statues and pictures, and roofs curiously fretted, the usual embellishments of such places amongst the other Greeks.”
― Plutarch, Plutarch's Lives: Volume I

“The only best way to prove that a statue can't provide for you is to ask it for food.”
― Mwanandeke Kindembo

“जन्म दिवस—
मूर्ति पर धूल की
मोटी परत ।”
― Manish Kumar Shrivastva, Prakash : Ek Dyuti

“When respecting the statue of a venerable person, don't forget to respect the artist too who made that statue!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“Sometimes we all want to be like a statue: Always calm; always observer; always listening; always fearless and always inspiring!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“A woman of virtue does not behave like a statue. She carries objective views about life.”
― Gift Gugu Mona, Woman of Virtue: Power-Filled Quotes for a Powerful Woman

“[writing in his notebook]
'The statue sang, I could hear it distinctly though I failed to interpret the words of the song. It was all a hallucination of course. Otherwise nothing worth noting today'
[he moves on]”
― Henrik Ibsen, Peer Gynt

“As he went along the path he stopped to look at the plants. He paused by the kitchen plot to pick leaves from the aromatic herbs and rub them in his hands. He lingered among the flower beds, bending to smell or to touch the petals. When he got to the statue hidden by the yew bushes he laughed, then backed off to see it from a bit farther away. He shifted his head from side to side, then, imitating the figure, he lifted his hands to play an imaginary flute and raised one knee in a Bacchic dance.
When Celia heard Dennis laughing near the statue she came to greet him and introduce himself.
"Oh, you caught me dancing with this faun fellow! I am so glad to finally meet you," he said. "Your plume poppies are glorious," he said. "The whole garden is. I hope you will walk me through it when there's time."
"Of course I will." Celia almost hugged him for his appreciation. "I'm glad you like the poppies. I can give you some if you like, but they are complete thugs. Hooligans! They escape wherever you put them, they multiply and take over. You really have to keep an eye on them.”
― Grace Dane Mazur, The Garden Party: A Novel

“Dear Life! STATUE!”
― Vikrmn: CA Vikram Verma, You By You

“She is a beauty. Yes, a marble nymph; angelic eyes, unearthly lips…”
― Alexander Pushkin

“What are you doing? '
'I'm taking a picture of a national gay landmark. ' Alex tells him 'and also a statue.”
― Casey McQuiston, Red, White & Royal Blue

“It's a Stromwing," Ozorne said. "I always wanted one.”
― Tamora Pierce, Tempests and Slaughter

“I'm in a group that puts up statues in Austin, and our most recent work was a bronze Willie, holding Trigger, that now graces the entry to the Austin City Limits studio. I got to pose for that statue, holding a Martin guitar of the same model, N-20. Clete Shields, of Philadelphia, was our sculptor. In 2011, when the statue was cast and delivered to Austin, we covered it with a parachute and stored it in a movie studio until it could be installed. One night, Willie came by for a private unveiling. He was gracious but a little overwhelmed as he exchanged a long look with himself. Bill Wittliff, who is on our committee, explained that what we liked about this piece was its engagement with the audience. "People will come to you," he said. "Little children will touch your knee and seek your counsel."
"Do what I say and not what I do," Willie advised.”
― Lawrence Wright, God Save Texas: A Journey into the Soul of the Lone Star State

“Perfino le statue invecchiano…” pensò, “le statue, gli oggetti, le pietre. Invecchiano i ricordi, i sogni, le parole scritte e pronunciate. Invecchiano gli amori. Invecchia la riva del mare, che si ritrae con i contorni della costa; invecchia il greto del fiume, il profilo delle montagne, che cambia di stagione in stagione. E invecchia il cielo, perché perde le sue stelle. Perché questo è il potere del tempo: cambiare i volti, trasformare l’amore in abitudine, sfumare i ricordi, distruggere i sogni, scolpire la pietra, inghiottire il mare e far morire le stelle. Però… però riusciamo a vederle, alcune stelle. Anche se sono già spente. Stelle che beffano il tempo, perché la loro luce rimane fissa nel firmamento, anche se sono precitate nell'abisso da millenni.”
― Salvatore Basile, Lo strano viaggio di un oggetto smarrito

“Though God doesn't live in your heart, you can find his statue in the temple”
― Dr.P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“His statue served as a lesson and was inscribed: the heart of stone make the body of stone. Forever. (Sa statue servit de leçon et fut inscrit : le cœur de pierre fait le corps de pierre. Pour toujours.)”
― Charles de Leusse, Les Contes de la nuit

“At her back a Madonna, fashioned of jet limewood. The Madonna holds a mammoth baby in swaddling clothes. The Christ Child it says on the sign, his arms stretched out at either side, his hands big with blessing it says on the sign, but to Leah there seems no blessing in it. It looks more like accusation. The baby is cruciform; he is the shape of the thing that will destroy him. He reaches out for Leah. He reaches out to stop any escape, to the right or to the left.”
― Zadie Smith, NW

“But it was the broken statue in the corner that drew Elizabeth's attention: a seraphim in despair leaned casually there against the back gate.
"That's Beulah," said Cutter, following her gaze. "Well, for Beulah. Beulah was my great-grandmother and the angel was there on her grave till the storm of sixty-eight knocked her over. She's my garden angel."
"Your garden angel?"
"When I was about seven or so, I heard about guardian angels, how everyone's supposed to have one. Only I heard it garden angel. And I thought of Beulah's angel in the dead garden. I knew she was my garden angel."
Cutter's hands fluttered over the statue, her touch reverent, light, brushing off leaves, stroking the stone face, like feeling the forehead of a feverish child. Moving closer, Elizabeth saw that Beulah was not in despair after all. She was just waking up, maybe, shaking off an afternoon doze, one arm thrown over her face, a dimple in the elbow of a plump arm, her mighty wings curled around her body like wilted leaves.
"I can't tell you how many times I've thought of her before exams, my driver's test, job interviews, even when Gran died. I close my eyes and picture her and I know things will be all right. At least they seem better.”
― Mindy Friddle, The Garden Angel

“There were no furnishings and no decorations-- except the wall on the opposite side had a small alcove, and in the alcove was a bronze statue of a bird, green with age. I thought it might be a sparrow, but it was so corroded that I couldn't tell for sure.
I wondered if it might be the statue of a Lar.
In this room--like the first hallway-- the air smelled of summer. But there was no half-heard laughter on the air, no sense that space was subtly wrong, nor that invisible eyes were watching. There was only the warm, peaceful stillness that exists between one summer breeze and the next. A trickle of water ran down the wall on my left and pooled before the alcove; I drew a breath, and my lungs filled with the mineral scent of water over warm rock.
Without thinking, I sat down and leaned back against the wall. It was not smooth; the stones formed hard, uneven ripples behind my back-- yet the tension ran out of my body. I stared at the bronze sparrow, and I did not entirely fall asleep, but I almost dreamt: my mind was full of summer breezes, the warm, wet smell of earth after summer rain, the delight of running barefoot through damp grass and finding the hidden tangle of strawberries.”
― Rosamund Hodge, Cruel Beauty

“Well, good night," he said. "I'm off to the elephant with my kids. On the supposition that you should need me some night, you'll find me there. I live on the second floor. There is no doorman. You should ask for Monsieur Gavroche.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

“A golden statue of a wicked man is worth less than a mud statue of a man with a heart of gold!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“You can expect a statue to give you aesthetic beauty, or peace, or some thought, some shade, but you can't expect it to make you a cup of tea! Everything and everyone has an absolute limit to what they can do, a finite ability beyond which they can never go!”
― Mehmet Murat ildan

“It was an irony---and perhaps, even, a foreshadowing---that she had been struck especially by the majesty of the house that long-ago day. It had looked to ten-year-old Jess like something from a fairy tale, standing tall with its gleaming weatherboards and elaborate tangle of wisteria branches. The longest boughs of the tallest trees arched together to form a proscenium around the house at center stage, the sweep of green leaves fell away on all sides, and the round pond was just visible on the western slope, with its glossy lily pads and graceful stone statue. The effect was of a place set apart from the rest of the big wide world.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“From somewhere in the garden came the sound of a magpie singing, and a thousand days of childhood arrived with it. Jess glanced to her right and spotted the black-and-white bird perched atop the statue in the middle of the pond. There were magpies in England, too--- Jess had seen them often on the Heath--- but although they shared a name, they were different from their antipodean cousins: smaller, neater, prettier, and without the eerily sublime song. This magpie was looking directly at her. Jess tilted her head, watching the bird as he watched her. Suddenly, he spread his wings and flew away.
She crossed the turning circle toward the lawn. The grass was still damp with dew, even though the sun was rising fast, and cool shadows stretched toward the harbor. Jess reached the edge of the pond and followed the line of its curved rim until the elegant stone lady was directly before her, kneeling as she always had, arms folded above her head, face bowed to gaze at the goldfish and lilies.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“I don't suppose you remember, but you gave our lovely lady here a name."
Jess glanced up at the statue. "Grace," she said suddenly, the word coming from nowhere.
Nora smiled. "That's right. Grace. I'm not sure where you got it. Divine inspiration, I've always thought, because of course that is her name. What else could it be?"
Jess had looked up at the statue then, taking in her features as if for the first time. Lichen had grown along the coils of her hair and across her face and down her naked torso, but no matter her exposure to the elements, there was something transcendent about her expression and her pose.”
― Kate Morton, Homecoming

“I once saw a marble statue in a museum, and it shocked me, because that piece of art had stolen my dance moves. Romance frozen in motion is my contribution to the culture of music, and I hope Harrison hires me to perform at their new concert venue.”
― Jarod Kintz, A Memoir of Memories and Memes

“As a man who dances like a bronze statue, in the style of Rodin's The Thinker, I know a thing or two about choreography. OK, maybe just a thing, and that thing is this: The dancers in The Anthems of Rock can move—and they’re a big reason the audience was so moved with each song.”
― Jarod Kintz, A Memoir of Memories and Memes