Markus Zusak Quotes

The desire for transcendence is intimately connected with the desire for creativity. It is just as essential to who and what we are.

A wise man is cured of ambition by ambition itself; his aim is so exalted that riches, office, fortune and favour cannot satisfy him.

The goal is to try and make the perfect song. Which of course will never happen.

A principle is the expression of perfection, and as imperfect beings like us cannot practise perfection, we devise every moment limits of its compromise in practice.

You have to make thousands and thousands of drawings before an illustration is perfected.

Some people strive for perfection, but I often find perfection boring.

A perfect human being: Man in search of his ideal of perfection. Nothing less.

Whatever has happened in my quest for innovation has been part of my quest for immaculate reality.

It is through art, and through art only, that we can realise our perfection.

The truth is that no matter how many retakes you do, each will be different and that is the nature of any creative medium. There's no such thing as perfection.

In short, if we adhere to the standard of perfection in all our endeavors, we are left with nothing but mathematics and the White Album.

Artists who approach perfection do not have many ideas.

To want to become angels while we are still on earth ... is ridiculous.

And what is Genius but finer love, a love impersonal, a love of the flower and perfection of things, and a desire to draw a new picture or copy of the same? It looks to the cause and life: it proceeds from within outward, whilst Talent goes from without inward.

The maxims tell you to aim at perfection, which is well; but it's unattainable, all the same.

Each artist comes to the painting or sculpture because there he can be told that he, the individual, transcends all classes and flouts all predictions. In the work of art, he finds his uniqueness confirmed.

I paint life as I would like it to be.

A small artist is content with art; a great artist is content with nothing except everything.

In this state one enriches everything out of one's own fullness: whatever one sees, whatever wills is seen swelled, taut, strong, overloaded with strength. A man in this state transforms things until they mirror his power—until they are reflections of his perfection. This having to transform into perfection is—art.

The motive of art comes to us not from what exists, but from the notion that there is something higher, something nobler, something richer, and that what exists corresponds only partially to all of this.

Every first draft is perfect, because all a first draft has to do is exist.

I don't think I've reached perfection by any stretch of the imagination, but maybe someday I'll become a perfectionist.

The picture that looks as if it were done without an effort may have been a perfect battlefield in its making.

Producing perfection from imperfection is, after all, the highest of art forms.