Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the sculptor.
I found Rome built of bricks; I leave her clothed in marble.
Augustus was a great builder and patron of the arts.
Carve your name on hearts, not on marble
The soft droppes of rain perce the hard marble.
If you look at the entrance halls of the skyscrapers of the 1920s and 1930s, they are very welcoming. They are public spaces with enormous amounts of display and marble and so on. They were havens off the street.
The best of artists hath no thought to show which the rough stone in its superfluous shell doth not include; to break the marble spell is all the hand that serves the brain can do.
Forget thyself to marble.
New York has total depth in every area. Washington has only politics; after that, the second biggest thing is white marble.
Dear God! how beauty varies in nature and art. In a woman the flesh must be like marble; in a statue the marble must be like flesh.
White paint is my marble.
[I]n the end this shall be for me sufficient, that a marble stone shall declare that a Queen, having reigned such a time, lived and died a virgin.
We may live without her, and worship without her, but we cannot remember without her. How cold is all history, how lifeless all imagery, compared to that which the living nation writes, and the uncorrupted marble bears!
Then marble, soften'd into life, grew warm.
As a memorial, I'd like a statue. Not of me, but a little modern statue, in marble or bronze, maybe of a bird, in a park where children could play and people going by could see it. On it, I'd just like it to say: 'Maeve Binchy, storyteller' and people could look at the name and remember that they'd seen it somewhere else.
I choose a block of marble and chop off whatever I don't need.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.
Life is made up of marble and mud.
Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
And when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And asleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me must be heard of, say, I taught thee.
Much rain wears the marble.
Cutting into color reminds me of the sculptor's direct carving.
Deep in the heart of the infinite darkness, a tiny blue marble is spinning through space. Born in the splendor of God's holy vision, and sliding away like a tear down his face.
It seems strange to me that someone thought of making marble statues.
The best artist has that thought alone Which is contained within the marble shell; The sculptor's hand can only break the spell To free the figures slumbering in the stone.
Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin