Masterpiece Inspirational Quotes

Edit your life frequently and ruthlessly. It's your masterpiece after all.

Women, as some witty Frenchman once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces and always prevent us from carrying them out.

Make your lives a masterpiece, you only get one canvas.

I am not a little bit of many things; but I am the sufficient representation of many things. I am not an incompletion of all these races; but I am a masterpiece of the prolific. I am an entirety, I am not a lack of anything; rather I am a whole of many things. God did not see it needful to make me generic. He thinks I am better than that.

Today is yours to shape. Create a masterpiece!

Keep creating: the world yearns to celebrate your next masterpiece.

Remember death. Even for those who wield great power, life is brief. There is only one way to triumph over death, and that is by making our lives masterpieces. We must seize every opportunity to show kindness and to love fully.

Roses do not bloom hurriedly; for beauty, like any masterpiece, takes time to blossom.

YOU ARE AN ARTIST OF THE SPIRIT Find yourself and express yourself in your own particular way. Express your love openly. Life is nothing but a dream, and if you create your life with love, your dream becomes a masterpiece of art.

Being scared to fail inspires creativity; heartbreak inspires creativity; being hurt by others inspires creativity; being lost inspires creativity. Your masterpiece isn’t something that you will have made in the colorful, it is understood in the darkness. Use the anxiety within and let it serve you.

When love is at the base of something, it is a masterpiece.

Today, you have the opportunity to transcend from a disempowered mindset of existence to an empowered reality of purpose-driven living. Today is a new day that has been handed to you for shaping. You have the tools, now get out there and create a masterpiece.

Make your life a masterpiece; imagine no limitations on what you can be, have or do

You have a masterpiece inside you, you know. One unlike any that has ever been created, or ever will be. If you go to your grave without painting your masterpiece, it will not get painted. No one else can paint it. Only you.

You are the artist, and your days the canvas. Will you create an original masterpiece, or live a paint-by-numbers kind of life?

Speak Life: You are loved. You have purpose. You are a masterpiece. You are wonderfully made. God has a great plan for you.

Life is not a puzzle to be solved. Life is a masterpiece that you create.

Many people say, "Well, I'd love to make a decision like that, but I'm not sure how I could change my life." They're paralyzed by the fear that they don't know exactly how to turn their dreams into reality. And as a result, they never make the decisions that could make their lives into the masterpieces they deserve to be. I'm here to tell you that it's not important initially to know how you're going to create a result. What's important is to decide you will find a way, no matter what.

She preferred the quiet solitary atmosphere, to create in her own world of paint and colour, the thrill of anticipating how her works would turn out as she eyed the blank sheets of paper or canvas before starting her next masterpiece. How satisfying it was to mess around in paint gear, without having to worry about spills, starch or frills, that was the life!

she’s a perfect mess, with a young heart, and an old soul. a beautiful disaster, a masterpiece of words. chaos within tragedy. art in the shades of poetry, a flawless masterpiece, so perfectly damn good.

When I create a masterpiece I feel alive! When my creation is revered I feel immortal.

Art does not reproduce the visible rather, it makes visible.

Life is the ultimate artistic masterpiece, and it's up to you, the creator, to make it as wildly dazzling as possible.

I'm just a masterpiece trying to master peace.

I acquired courage from the masterpieces of sages. I came of age by their instructions to keep going, even in hard times. Then I learnt not to despair, even when it seemed that my world is falling apart. I learnt to possess fortitude.

On the great canvas of time We all create our own masterpiece. Choreographing our steps across minutes and hours Dancing over the days Painting pictures over months and Writing our stories on the years. Singing our songs that echo across eons. We are all a thread in the talent tapestry. A snapshot in the cosmic, collective collage.

The power of beauty is that it encapsulates all the bitter sweet elements and mirrors them back as a breathtaking masterpiece.

Don't give-up on your greatest masterpiece — you.

The paper is your canvas. The pen is your brush. Create your masterpiece.

Symphonies begin with one note; fires with one flame; gardens with one flower; and masterpieces with one stroke.

You're an original, an individual, a masterpiece. Celebrate that; don't let your uniqueness make you shy. Don't be someone other than the wonder you are. Every star is important to the sky.

There is a journey that’s waiting for you, you will make great discoveries, you will find treasures and hidden powers, it’s a journey divinely design just for you, Today be brave in self-love and start the journey within yourself, There God is waiting to show you his masterpiece of love.

Love is when unknowingly I am moving to a world of no return, Where my desire and your fragrance together burn all your thoughts in canvas of my mind and soul turns in to a masterpiece as my life's aim and goal looks I am taken over and over away by you showering in me as a rain of you and only you

View your life as a form of art, and dare to turn it into an existential masterpiece.

GOD made you a masterpiece, stop treating yourself like a shattered piece.

A man's genius seems to befriend the more when he reads with open heart, the masterpiece of masterminds, the sagacity of sages, and the ingenious words of geniuses of ages.

Your thought should be creative and not destructive; it should be full of hope and faith for a more excellent future.

You are an original masterpiece; imitating someone else diminishes your value.

You are God's chisel; it is you He uses to create masterpieces.

Be true to yourself, help others, make each day your masterpiece, make friendship a fine art, drink deeply from good books - especially the Bible, build a shelter against a rainy day, give thanks for your blessings and pray for guidance every day.

I have a pesky little critic in the back of my mind. He's a permanent fixture and passes judgment on everything I write. In order to placate him, especially when I'm endeavoring to write anything as ambitious as a novel, I have to constantly mutter, 'I'm not writing a masterpiece, I'm not writing a masterpiece.' This mantra lulls him into a kind of stupor so that he pays no attention to what I'm doing, because after all, I'm not claiming it's any good. Slowly, and secretly, one page at a time, I write my story. I know I've succeeded when he grudgingly admits, 'That's pretty good.' And if I'm lucky, every once in a while, I blow him away.

And she felt the beauty in the music now, drank it in with tears streaming down her face. Never had she been so naked in worship before her Creator, allowing the adoration to bleed out her very fingertips onto the strings, playing her heart's cry for every single lost soul, for the loss of innocence every generation to come would possess as a result of what happened at the killing fields of Auschwitz.

Writing isn’t necessarily a gift it is a passion. You can write a one page masterpiece to 99 pages of crap. What keeps you coming back is that Zen moment when you enlightened your own self with a few cleverly arranged words and saved yourself a $200 trip to the shrink, by simply buying a #2 pencil.

Share your voice and your heart. Listen to how it falls in with the cosmic symphony. Let it be imperfect, incomplete, unrefined. The masterpiece is coming.

Robert inspired Elizabeth to write her autobiographical masterpiece, Sonnets from the Portuguese, which famously begins, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Never look back. The past is done. The future is a blank canvas. Work on creating a masterpiece. Only you have the power to make your painting beautiful.

What is a Masterpiece? - In spite of finding an answer, at first calm down and try to look at the mirror, You will definitely find the best one which you have made in your lifetime!

It makes no sense to compare yourself with others because there will always be better & worse people than you out there. Each person has his own path to make. You are where you are now. Could you reach for the stars & have everything you want? realistically no. You may not win Olympic Gold in London 2012 , or be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company etc but you most definitely have the capacity to make YOUR life as the Masterpiece it could really be. The choice is yours...

Nowhere can I think so happily as in a train. I am not inspired; nothing so uncomfortable as that. I am never seized with a sudden idea for a masterpiece, nor form a sudden plan for some new enterprise. My thoughts are just pleasantly reflective. I think of all the good deeds I have done, and (when these give out) of all the good deeds I am going to do. I look out of the window and say lazily to myself, “How jolly to live there”; and a little farther on, “How jolly not to live there.” I see a cow, and I wonder what it is like to be a cow, and I wonder whether the cow wonders what it is to be like me; and perhaps, by this time, we have passed on to a sheep, and I wonder if it is more fun being a sheep. My mind wanders on in a way which would annoy Pelman a good deal, but it wanders on quite happily, and the “clankety-clank” of the train adds a very soothing accompaniment. So soothing, indeed, that at any moment I can close my eyes and pass into a pleasant state of sleep.

God plants the talent and it grows, sustained by a spirit-given strength to endure, even in the midst of darkness. It thrives in the valleys of life and ignores the peaks. It blooms like a flower when cradled by the warmth of the sun. It remains in a hidden stairwell in a concentration camp. It grows, fed in secret, in the heart of every artist.

We house both masterpiece and artist in this skin. So when you are disintegrated, trying to piece together what is left inside you, focus on this: You are not broken. You are simply dissembled for a while as the artist inside rebuilds something infinite out of you.

[Raphael's] great superiority is due to the instinctive sense which, in him, seems to desire to shatter form. Form is, in his figures, what it is in ourselves, an interpreter for the communication of ideas and sensations, an exhaustless source of poetic inspiration. Every figure is a world in itself, a portrait of which the original appeared in a sublime vision, in a flood of light, pointed to by an inward voice, laid bare by a divine finger which showed what the sources of expression had been in the whole past life of the subject.

What if we treated people as we do art? No anger, no questions—just acceptance for the unique masterpiece each one of us are.

The storm is an artist; the rainbow is its masterpiece.

Make your life a masterpiece; imagine no limitations on what you can be, have or do.

Every dream, every vision is a masterpiece canvas on the wall of our minds. So as artists we should make an effort to bring the artwork to the the exhibition.

A masterpiece is a piece that masters things.

You are the artistic painter of your success. Paint your life day-by-day, into the masterpiece of excellence you want.

A masterpiece does not unfurl its wings immediately. It takes time. It will fly when it is ready.

On the canvas of life, you are the creative painter of your success. Paint your life into a wonderful masterpiece of excellence.

I still fall on my face sometimes and I Can't color inside the lines 'cause I'm perfectly incomplete I'm still working on my masterpiece

Dress each day as though you were a masterpiece and define your personal style.

The mind, untethered to morality, can sculpt reality into a grotesque masterpiece of its desires

Your future is dependent on your thought today, therefore think good and lovely thoughts now!

The positioning of the mind is what makes the difference between the failures and the successes.

How far you go in life and in your career is dependent on how far you can think good thoughts!

Thought is the mental imagery of what you want to do, have or achieve.

Always set your mind to think thoughts of victory even before the battle begins, this way you will experience limitless possibilities.

Think on blessings and not curses, beauty not ugliness, health not sickness. Meditate on wealth not poverty, success not failure, grace not disgrace!

You are the guardian and custodian of your heart, remember this always!

When your thought is right, your imaginations will be colourful; you will then dream and not have nightmares!

You can use songs, scriptures and godly pictures to chart your thought-course in the right direction.

Your thought is so important because it has the ability to make or mar you. Your thought will either move you forward or set you backwards.

Mistakes serve as a reminder that life’s canvas is not perfect, but it’s the imperfections that make it a masterpiece worth cherishing.

We artists are often counted as awkward by people who know nothing of how it feels to have another spirit live within you - the muse... Even some artists don't understand us, the mused ones, as our muses have faces and clearly appear to us, while all they have is the inspiration and not the muse. But ancient people knew of them... They said muses were goddesses and ruled upon the arts... It is true. When a muse forms into your mind and splits your spirit in two, you are already seized by it, controlled by it, and so you are bound to serve it and create masterpieces... It is not just we who create muses. They create us too. They form us into who we are.

It's hard to know, isn't it, whether the things we face are just because the world is full of sin and sinful people, or if God is working out a plan,' Grandma continued. 'I happen to think it's both. There's sin, but through it all, He takes the mess we make and paints a masterpiece. In fact, I'm quite certain that before God can ever bless a woman—and use her to impact many—He uses the hammer, the file, and the furnace to do a holy work.

With a true masterpiece, there are no words required. Discourse is rendered redundant. That's why the work of a master transcends all notions of education, of class. It rises above the onlooker's understanding of what is considered good or bad, or right or wrong in the world of art. With the artist who has achieved mastery, skill, experience and knowledge are transparent, leaving only the message for all to see.

O Lady. You are the flower of God's garden That God sent on earth to scent this world You are the strength of God's Power. That God Sent on earth to make humans strong You are the dew of God's kindness That God sent on earth to teach humanity You are the masterpiece of his creation. That God sent on earthTo make this world beautiful and worth living Wishing you a very Happy Women's day Thank you for making this world better. Peace and love..

Don't be afraid of being different, be afraid of being the same

I never loss, either I win or I learn

Time, the sculptor of moments, carves our lives into the masterpiece of memories.

There is no friend as loyal as a book

The art of loving is not how many you touch, it is the heart of one that shows a masterpiece of your deepest design.~Bluenscottish

I wake up everyday with an intention of delivering my masterpiece... nothing less

Pressure is an artist; diamonds are its masterpiece.

Faith is an artist; miracles are its masterpiece.

don't take a multiple shots to have a master piece one, instead wait for a time which will give you a masterpiece at once.

You are a miracle, you are a light. You are not made of our weaknesses but of your strengths. You are a masterpiece made by The Master. Don't see yourself less!

You are one of a kind. You are irreplaceable. A masterpiece, a Mini-Me of the Divine sufficient unto yourself.

You are a painter of success. Paint your life into a masterpiece of excellence.

You are the artistic painter of your success. Paint your life day-by-day, into a masterpiece of excellence over a lifetime.

People think - Rebel, Adamant, Egoistic, Impractical, Proud My answer - Unconventional, Fighter, Uncompromising, Dreamer, God's Masterpiece Perception Matters

Women, as some witty Frenchman once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces, and always prevent us from carrying them out.

Empower your journey and awaken the artist within - where every moment becomes a masterpiece of self-discovery.

Everyone is part mess and part masterpiece – just like you.

Open-mindedness is essential for belief. Closed minds do not inspire faith, courage, and belief.

Creo que si, que has perdido la cabez, estás completamente loco. Pero te diré un secreto: las mejores personas lo están. (Sombrerero).

Wrong thinking will take your life the wrong way, channeling your thoughts to the right direction will cause you to soar in life.

You create and plan your thought by seeing, reading and hearing the right things.

Our thoughts create our lifestyle, if you live healthy, it means you think healthy thoughts and if you think unhealthy thoughts, it will reflect in your health and lifestyle too.

Learn to live from inside to outside, bring out those magnificent estates within you and live in them.

You can cream your dream by enriching your thought with clean and desirable things.

We are advised to meditate on things that are true, lovely, noble, gracious and bring good report. These should form the basis of our thought pattern.

Your future will definitely head to the same direction with your thoughts; this is why planning your thought is so important.

Wrong thoughts pattern your life towards it for we live our thoughts.

Live on your good thoughts and they will manifest outwardly.

Choose your thoughts, carve them in your mind and fix your gaze on them always.

You cannot be different from your thought!

Structure your thought pattern to what you want to achieve and who you want to become.

Mistakes are works of art. You don’t need to create your own, study the masterpieces others left behind, be inspired, and learn.

Every morning begins a new chapter—make it a masterpiece.

I’ve always thought that a close-reading course should at least be a companion, if not an alternative, to the writing workshop. Though it also doles out praise, the workshop most often focuses on what a writer has done wrong, what needs to be fixed, cut, or augmented. Whereas reading a masterpiece can inspire us by showing us how a writer does something brilliantly.

He felt the inspirations of his youth, which had been dissipated by a frivolous life, stirring again in him, but they all bore now the reflection, the stamp of a particular being; and during the long hours which he now found a subtle pleasure in spending at home, alone with his convalescent soul, he became gradually himself again, but himself in thraldom to another. He

Your life today and tomorrow is patterned alongside your thoughts. You are therefore advised to create good and wonderful thoughts today so they will deliver a beautiful tomorrow for you.

Use the powerful tool of thought and develop your mindset to believing and knowing you can change anything to your favour; yes, you have God`s Word so fashion your thought according to God`s Word.

The capacity to be the holiest of saints and the most heartless of killers exists within each of us. You may have heard this before, but take a moment to actually feel the truth of it within yourself. Such a feeling inspires us to embrace our own greatness on the one hand, yet also gives us greater compassion for the wicked on the other hand—for we know that there, but for the grace of God, go I.

Like anything in life, spending time around good things will eventually make us good, being around inspiring things leads to inspiration and so on. Be the artist of your own picture and make it a masterpiece.

The Romantic journey was usually a solitary one. Although the Romantic poets were closely connected with one another, and some collaborated in their work, they each had a strong individual vision. Romantic poets could not continue their quests for long or sustain their vision into later life. The power of the imagination and of inspiration did not last. Whereas earlier poets had patrons who financed their writing, the tradition of patronage was not extensive in the Romantic period and poets often lacked financial and other support. Keats, Shelley and Byron all died in solitary exile from England at a young age, their work left incomplete, non-conformists to the end. This coincides with the characteristic Romantic images of the solitary heroic individual, the spiritual outcast 'alone, alone, all, all alone' like Coleridge's Ancient Mariner and John Clare's 'I'; like Shelley's Alastor, Keats's Endymion, or Byron's Manfred, who reached beyond the normal social codes and normal human limits so that 'his aspirations/Have been beyond the dwellers of the earth'. Wordsworth, who lived to be an old man, wrote poems throughout his life in which his poetic vision is stimulated by a single figure or object set against a natural background. Even his projected final masterpiece was entitled The Recluse. The solitary journey of the Romantic poet was taken up by many Victorian and twentieth-century poets, becoming almost an emblem of the individual's search for identity in an ever more confused and confusing world.

So my biggest message (inspired by both my NDE and the life and teachings of my dear friend) is to live your life as an exercise in creativity, as if every discovery, every artistic exploration, matters in the cosmic tapestry of life—because it does. Follow your heart as you exuberantly combine the riot of colors the universe lays before you to make your life into your own masterpiece. You may be surprised by your creation. As when we listen to or play beautiful music, our goal is not to get to the end of the piece. The point is to enjoy the melodious, joyous journey the music takes us on, including the very first note and every single one that comes after it.

Nature had once produced an Englishman whose domed head had been a hive of words; a man who had only to breathe on any particle of his stupendous vocabulary to have that particle live and expand and throw out tremulous tentacles until it became a complex image with a pulsing brain and correlated limbs. Three centuries later, another man, in another country, was trying to render these rhythms and metaphors in a different tongue. This process entailed a prodigious amount of labour, for the necessity of which no real reason could be given. It was as if someone, having seen a certain oak tree (further called Individual T) growing in a certain land and casting its own unique shadow on the green and brown ground, had proceeded to erect in his garden a prodigiously intricate piece of machinery which in itself was as unlike that or any other tree as the translator's inspiration and language were unlike those of the original author, but which, by means of ingenious combination of parts, light effects, breeze-engendering engines, would, when completed, cast a shadow exactly similar to that of Individual T - the same outline, changing in the same manner, with the same double and single spots of sun rippling in the same position, at the same hour of the day. From a practical point of view, such a waste of time and material (those headaches, those midnight triumphs that turn out to be disasters in the sober light of morning!) was almost criminally absurd, since the greatest masterpiece of imitation presupposed a voluntary limitation of thought, in submission to another man's genius.

Women treat us just as humanity treats its gods. They worship us, and are always bothering us to do something for them.” “I should have said that whatever they ask for they had first given to us,” murmured the lad gravely. “They create love in our natures. They have a right to demand it back.” “That is quite true, Dorian,” cried Hallward. “Nothing is ever quite true,” said Lord Henry. “This is,” interrupted Dorian. “You must admit, Harry, that women give to men the very gold of their lives.” “Possibly,” he sighed, “but they invariably want it back in such very small change. That is the worry. Women, as some witty Frenchman once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces and always prevent us from carrying them out.

Baseball was an art, but to excel at it you had to become a machine. It didn't matter how beautifully you performed _sometimes_, what you did on your best day, how many spectacular plays you made. You weren't a painter or a writer--you didn't work in private and discard your mistakes, and it wasn't just your masterpieces that counted. What mattered, as for any machine, was repeatability. Moments of inspiration were nothing compared to elimination of error. The scouts cared little for Henry's superhuman grace; insofar as they cared they were suckered-in aesthetes and shitty scouts. Can you perform on demand, like a car, a furnace, a gun? Can you make that throw one hundred times out of a hundred? If it can't be a hundred, it had better be ninety-nine.

There's only one parent's love you truly need: your heavenly Father's. And the good news is you don't have to earn it, and you don't have to prove yourself worthy to receive it. You are loved for exactly the person you are, with all your faults and flaws. In His eyes, you are a masterpiece. His own wondrous creation.~page 303

If there is a pure space inside of us that can access the eternal source, and give rise to great acts of kindness, create masterpiece artworks, inspire life changing technology, and drive a man to risk his life to save a woman and her baby in a flood, where then does that space exist inside us that gives rise to great acts of horror and pain?

Sometimes the novel is not ready to be written because you haven't met the inspiration for your main character yet. Sometimes you need two more years of life experience before you can make your masterpiece into something that will feel real and true and raw to other people. Sometimes you're not falling in love because whatever you need to know about yourself is only knowable through solitude. Sometimes you haven't met your next collaborator. Sometimes your sadness encircles you because, one day, it will be the opus upon which you build your life. We all know this: Our experience cannot always be manipulated. Yet, we don't act as though we know this truth. We try so hard to manipulate and control our lives, to make creativity into a game to win, to shortcut success because others say they have, to process emotions and uncertainty as if these are linear journeys. You don't get to game the system of your life. You just don't. You don't get to control every outcome and aspect as a way to never give in to the uncertainty and unpredictability of something that's beyond what you understand. It's the basis of presence: to show up as you are in this moment and let that be enough.

The quality of interpersonal relationships that we forge when purposefully engaging in work that advances the interest of the multitudes is the shining endorsement to a life well lived. Within the corners of each person’s private and public canvas lies his or her masterpiece. Each person’s matchless artistry provides an indelible testament to how he or she lived. A person’s lifetime body of work unequivocally expresses a road map to their innermost salvation. Only by actualizing our innate natural mind can any of us funnel our motivational forces into directional inspiration that leads us to peacefulness and wisdom. All efforts to achieve meaningful tributes to a life well lived are noisy affairs that clang in our hearts. Only through death can any of us attain a state of soundless perfection.

Just for today let me live in the light of peace and shun the darkness that accompanies negativity. Let me seek the smiles and laughter of others and join their happiness freely. Let me live in the moment without worry or shame of the past nor anticipation of the future. Just for today, let me do these things so that I may change from what I am into the masterpiece I can become.” — Richard D. Rowland

Suffice it to say I was compelled to create this group in order to find everyone who is, let's say, borrowing liberally from my INESTIMABLE FOLIO OF CANONICAL MASTERPIECES (sorry, I just do that sometimes), and get you all together. It's the least I could do. I mean, seriously. Those soliloquies in Moby-Dick? Sooo Hamlet and/or Othello, with maybe a little Shylock thrown in. Everyone from Pip in Great Expectations to freakin' Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre mentions my plays, sometimes completely mangling my words in nineteenth-century middle-American dialect for humorous effect (thank you, Sir Clemens). Many people (cough Virginia Woolf cough) just quote me over and over again without attribution. I hear James Joyce even devoted a chapter of his giant novel to something called the "Hamlet theory," though do you have some sort of newfangled English? It looks like gobbledygook to me. The only people who don't seek me out are like Chaucer and Dante and those ancient Greeks. For whatever reason. And then there are the titles. The Sound and the Fury? Mine. Infinite Jest? Mine. Proust, Nabokov, Steinbeck, and Agatha Christie all have titles that are me-inspired. Brave New World? Not just the title, but half the plot has to do with my work. Even Edgar Allan Poe named a character after my Tempest's Prospero (though, not surprisingly, things didn't turn out well for him!). I'm like the star to every wandering bark, the arrow of every compass, the buzzard to every hawk and gillyflower ... oh, I don't even know what I'm talking about half the time. I just run with it, creating some of the SEMINAL TOURS DE FORCE OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. You're welcome.

A very long time ago, when the world was plain, a brilliant scientist invented a wonderful mysterious device. When touched, it inspired you. “People from everywhere came to touch the device—and were inspired to create problems, solve all masterpieces, heal the hungry and feed the sick. Others were inspired to invent even more amazing inventions. Soon, the world filled with technological wonders. “Because so many people touched it, the device eventually wore down and stopped working. And when the oceans rose to swallow land and rearrange the continents, everything that was left of the inspired civilization sank to the bottom. “But the memory of inspiration remains to this day. It’s why so many of us unconsciously reach out to touch the things of the world, and why we reach out for each other. “There’s something to be invented.

When I woke up in the morning the Sun was already up but hiding behind the clouds. The trees were swaying in the breeze. The clouds were floating as small boats in the sky. A strange fragrance caught me by surprise. I felt a rapturous frenzy inhaling it. The breeze drifted from the South and made me nostalgic. And life went on charting its own course. Life will paint you a masterpiece if you have the patience to see it!

Never look back. The past is done. The future is a blank canvas. Work on creating a masterpiece. Only you have the power to make your painting beautiful. Do not waste time chasing after success or comparing yourself to others. Every flower blooms at a different pace. Excel at doing what your passion is and only focus on perfecting it. Eventually people will see what you are great at doing, and if you are truly great, success will come chasing after you.

There's a shade of color for everyone. Whether you're as vibrant as neon pink or as cool as midnight blue, there's a hue that’s uniquely you. Embrace your colors and paint your own masterpiece. After all, the rainbow wouldn’t be complete without every quirky shade! So, go on—be your own brilliant color in this beautifully diverse world. Let your true colors shine because the world needs your unique sparkle. Don't blend in when you were born to stand out—paint the town with your individuality!

In his work Maladies and Remedies of the Life of the Flesh, published in Leiden under the pseudonym Christianus Democritus, he claimed to have discovered the Elixir of Life—a liquid counterpart to the Philosopher’s Stone—which would heal any ailment and grant eternal life to the person who drank it. He tried, but failed, to exchange the formula for the deed to Frankenstein Castle, and the only use he ever made of his potion—a mixture of decomposing blood, bones, antlers, horns and hooves—was as an insecticide, due to its incomparable stench. This same quality led the German troops to employ the tarry, viscous fluid as a non-lethal chemical weapon (therefore exempt from the Geneva Convention), pouring it into wells in North Africa to slow the advance of General Patton and his men, whose tanks pursued them across the desert sands. An ingredient in Dippel’s elixir would eventually produce the blue that shines not only in Van Gogh’s Starry Night and in the waters of Hokusai’s Great Wave, but also on the uniforms of the infantrymen of the Prussian army, as though something in the colour’s chemical structure invoked violence: a fault, a shadow, an existential stain passed down from those experiments in which the alchemist dismembered living animals to create it, assembling their broken bodies in dreadful chimeras he tried to reanimate with electrical charges, the very same monsters that inspired Mary Shelley to write her masterpiece, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus, in whose pages she warned of the risk of the blind advancement of science, to her the most dangerous of all human arts.

You have to be an optimist. No matter how poorly you’ve written your story, there will always be thousands of readers who will consider it nothing short of a masterpiece. At the same time, you have to be a skeptic. No matter how well you’ve written your story, there will inevitably be thousands of readers who will sincerely believe it’s complete garbage. And finally, you have to be a realist. No matter how well—or how poorly—you’ve written your story, there will always be millions of people who remain completely indifferent to it. They simply won’t care whether you wrote it or never even started.

He believed that touching the limits of human experience was something he shared with the Prophet Muhammad, who was also reputedly epileptic. Dostoevsky’s Prince Myshkin notes that Muhammad’s ecstasy took the form of a mythical white creature who whisked the prophet away “to survey all the dwellings of Allah” in the split second it took a jug of water to spill to the ground. That experience, Prince Myshkin says, is how he first grasped the biblical verse “time shall be no more.” Dostoevsky was describing an “ecstatic aura,” a phenomenon that researchers now realize affects some people with temporal lobe epilepsy.

A few months ago I found a note tucked into a journal. I googled the quote. It was from a poem by Saadi, an Iranian poet who lived in the thirteenth century. It was from his masterpiece, 'Gulistan', or 'The Rose Garden', Wikipedia told me. Gulistan is 'poetry of ideas with mathematical concision', it said, possibly the most influential piece of Persian literature ever written. I read on and came across the the following lines: 'If one member is afflicted with pain, other members uneasy with remain. If you have no sympathy for human pain, the name of human you cannot retain.' That's the essence of The Kindness of Strangers.

Girls, I was dead and down in the Underworld, a shade, a shadow of my former self, nowhen. It was a place where language stopped, a black full stop, a black hole Where the words had to come to an end. And end they did there, last words, famous or not. It suited me down to the ground. So imagine me there, unavailable, out of this world, then picture my face in that place of Eternal Repose, in the one place you’d think a girl would be safe from the kind of a man who follows her round writing poems, hovers about while she reads them, calls her His Muse, and once sulked for a night and a day because she remarked on his weakness for abstract nouns. Just picture my face when I heard - Ye Gods - a familiar knock-knock at Death’s door. Him. Big O. Larger than life. With his lyre and a poem to pitch, with me as the prize. Things were different back then. For the men, verse-wise, Big O was the boy. Legendary. The blurb on the back of his books claimed that animals, aardvark to zebra, flocked to his side when he sang, fish leapt in their shoals at the sound of his voice, even the mute, sullen stones at his feet wept wee, silver tears. Bollocks. (I’d done all the typing myself, I should know.) And given my time all over again, rest assured that I’d rather speak for myself than be Dearest, Beloved, Dark Lady, White Goddess etc., etc. In fact girls, I’d rather be dead. But the Gods are like publishers, usually male, and what you doubtless know of my tale is the deal. Orpheus strutted his stuff. The bloodless ghosts were in tears. Sisyphus sat on his rock for the first time in years. Tantalus was permitted a couple of beers. The woman in question could scarcely believe her ears. Like it or not, I must follow him back to our life - Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife - to be trapped in his images, metaphors, similes, octaves and sextets, quatrains and couplets, elegies, limericks, villanelles, histories, myths… He’d been told that he mustn’t look back or turn round, but walk steadily upwards, myself right behind him, out of the Underworld into the upper air that for me was the past. He’d been warned that one look would lose me for ever and ever. So we walked, we walked. Nobody talked. Girls, forget what you’ve read. It happened like this - I did everything in my power to make him look back. What did I have to do, I said, to make him see we were through? I was dead. Deceased. I was Resting in Peace. Passé. Late. Past my sell-by date… I stretched out my hand to touch him once on the back of the neck. Please let me stay. But already the light had saddened from purple to grey. It was an uphill schlep from death to life and with every step I willed him to turn. I was thinking of filching the poem out of his cloak, when inspiration finally struck. I stopped, thrilled. He was a yard in front. My voice shook when I spoke - Orpheus, your poem’s a masterpiece. I’d love to hear it again… He was smiling modestly, when he turned, when he turned and he looked at me. What else? I noticed he hadn’t shaved. I waved once and was gone. The dead are so talented. The living walk by the edge of a vast lake near, the wise, drowned silence of the dead.

Não sei de tudo o que lhe aconteceu entre esse dia no ginásio e agora, mas sei que os Outros conseguiram separar os fracos dos fortes. Os fracos foram levados. É essa a falha no plano-mestre do Vosch: se não nos matarem a todos de uma vez, não vão ser os fracos a sobrar no fim. Serão os fortes a sobreviver, os que vergaram mas não quebraram, tal como as barras de ferro que davam firmeza a todo este cimento. Cheias, incêndios, tremores de terra, doença, fome, traição, isolação, assassínio. O que não nos mata torna-nos mais astutos. Endurece-nos. Ensina-nos. Estás a transformar relhas em espadas, Vosch. Estás a refazer-nos. Nós somos o barro e tu és o Miguel Ângelo. E nós vamos ser a tua obra-prima.

Beauty, mystery, wonder. They all three go together. The primary human response to an encounter with overwhelming beauty is wonder. Wonder is the transcendent sensation we experience when we find ourselves in the presence of an awe-inspiring sunset, artistic masterpiece, or newborn baby. Wonder is the uniquely human reaction to the sublime. Wonder is a large part of what it means to be human. Wonder defined is, "a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration caused by something beautiful, unexpected, or inexplicable." We wonder at two things - the beautiful and the mysterious. A life stripped of beauty and mystery is a life barren of wonder, and a life without wonder is a kind of deep poverty.

Even some of his commissions that were completed, or almost so—Ginevra de’ Benci and the Mona Lisa, for example—were never delivered to clients. Leonardo clung to his favorite works, carried them with him when he moved, and returned to them when he had new ideas. He certainly did that with the Saint Jerome, and he may have planned to do the same with the Adoration of the Magi, which he entrusted to Ginevra’s brother for safekeeping but never sold or gave away. He did not like to let go. That is why he would die with some of his masterpieces still near his bedside. As frustrating as it is to us today, there was a poignant and inspiring aspect to Leonardo’s unwillingness to declare a painting done and relinquish it: he knew that there was always more he might learn, new techniques he might master, and further inspirations that might strike him. And he was right.

very nature of his ailment continues to baffle me, and baffle us all. What is the source of this abnormality? Everywhere we observe plants, animals, systems with a core. Every flower has its seed. Every animal its heart. Every masterpiece its inspiration. Yet the answers I seek elude me. There is a root somewhere in his brain, a twisted root that sprouts madness and malice. I will find it. No matter the cost, no matter the difficulty, I will find it. I will live a truly great life. My colleagues will no doubt hang me metaphorically, but I say let them hang. Legality, morality, sympathy aside, I will pull madness out by its black root, and I will leave a legacy no man, however sanctimonious, can fault. A truly great life. That is what humanity deserves. Not an average life, not even a normal one—a life in which genius is not an anomaly but an expectation. But to achieve such things

At night, fishermen are paid for their hard work with one of the Pacific’s greatest views—the gates to the heavens above. Hawaii’s remoteness to the rest of the world leaves the skies unpolluted by man’s industrial byproducts and artificial light known on the mainland. A man can actually look back in time when he gets far enough away from the shores of Hawaii and leaves modern society behind. He will find a sky above him before the hustle and bustle of mankind, a place where a stunning display of rhythmically twinkling stars are the norm and planets lay boldly pronounced. Shooting stars are commonplace and so is the humbling feeling a man gets when looking at this masterpiece before him. The boat churns up neon-green phosphoresce that glows in the water below like fireflies. When the ocean is calm enough and the moon dark enough, it is completely impossible to tell where the earth ends and where the heavens begin.

But there were problems. After the movie came out I couldn’t go to a tournament without being surrounded by fans asking for autographs. Instead of focusing on chess positions, I was pulled into the image of myself as a celebrity. Since childhood I had treasured the sublime study of chess, the swim through ever-deepening layers of complexity. I could spend hours at a chessboard and stand up from the experience on fire with insight about chess, basketball, the ocean, psychology, love, art. The game was exhilarating and also spiritually calming. It centered me. Chess was my friend. Then, suddenly, the game became alien and disquieting. I recall one tournament in Las Vegas: I was a young International Master in a field of a thousand competitors including twenty-six strong Grandmasters from around the world. As an up-and-coming player, I had huge respect for the great sages around me. I had studied their masterpieces for hundreds of hours and was awed by the artistry of these men. Before first-round play began I was seated at my board, deep in thought about my opening preparation, when the public address system announced that the subject of Searching for Bobby Fischer was at the event. A tournament director placed a poster of the movie next to my table, and immediately a sea of fans surged around the ropes separating the top boards from the audience. As the games progressed, when I rose to clear my mind young girls gave me their phone numbers and asked me to autograph their stomachs or legs. This might sound like a dream for a seventeen-year-old boy, and I won’t deny enjoying the attention, but professionally it was a nightmare. My game began to unravel. I caught myself thinking about how I looked thinking instead of losing myself in thought. The Grandmasters, my elders, were ignored and scowled at me. Some of them treated me like a pariah. I had won eight national championships and had more fans, public support and recognition than I could dream of, but none of this was helping my search for excellence, let alone for happiness. At a young age I came to know that there is something profoundly hollow about the nature of fame. I had spent my life devoted to artistic growth and was used to the sweaty-palmed sense of contentment one gets after many hours of intense reflection. This peaceful feeling had nothing to do with external adulation, and I yearned for a return to that innocent, fertile time. I missed just being a student of the game, but there was no escaping the spotlight. I found myself dreading chess, miserable before leaving for tournaments. I played without inspiration and was invited to appear on television shows. I smiled.

Learn something new and grow somehow, someway, every day.

There is no point in being a dreamer if you are not a doer.

2006 Apprentice episode, Trump announced the debut of a new property: Trump SoHo. “When it’s completed in 2008,” Trump declared, “this brilliant $370 million work of art will be an awe-inspiring masterpiece.”14

Eden by Maisie Aletha Smikle In the garden Eden Streams of tranquility glide Flowers magnificently bloom Adam, Eve and animals freely roam Springs sprout Waterfalls emerge Angels smile Earth and Heaven were once in sync Absent was the sting of sin There were no frost To bite the grass Causing trees to freeze There were no fierce heat To kindle a blaze There were no winds That were unkind There were no raindrops That weren't welcome All were in perfect peace All were in harmony so sweet The garden Eden Was the home of the people Handmade by the Father Precious were they Adam and Eve God's first human masterpieces They were loved God gave them a home And grew for them a lovely garden God gave them pets of all species He gave them glorious healing spas and herbs God gave them fruits and food of every kind Everything Adam and Eve had to their hearts desire An envious snake Probably a BOA Saw joy peace love and happiness And hated joy peace love and happiness BOA vowed to destroy love peace joy and happiness BOA wanted to create distrust and enmity instead BOA conspired against love peace joy and happiness And conspired to have Adam and Eve thrown out of their home BOA snatched love joy peace and happiness BOA caused the first family Adam and Eve To be thrown out of their home naked A home that was God's unencumbered gift BOA was happy when happiness left When joy love and peace took flight and went And distrust and enmity remain Where BOA can hiss and strike it's venom of loathe Until people are down Naked and have no home BOA is truly a disgrace Indeed BOA is a scrooge

I choose to love every part of me, because I am perfectly imperfect. I am a beautiful masterpiece, imperfectly complete, a work in progress, because there is always room for growth. I choose to love myself, because I always do the best I can. What matters most is progress, not completion or perfection. Loving myself, is giving myself the gift to be human in peace.

The Masterpiece? Head down, she obeys... Her mind, a virgin canvas, World paints its own strokes.

Patience is the gentle whisper of time, teaching us that the greatest masterpieces are crafted stroke by stroke, moment by moment.

I believe that we shocked each other by how swiftly we went from being the people who knew each other best in the world to being a pair of the most mutually incomprehensible strangers who ever lived. But it was vital to my survival to have a one bedroom of my own i saw the aprtment almost as a sanatorium a hospice clinci for my own recovery I painted the walls in the warmest colors i could find and bought myself flowers every week as if i were visiting myself in the hospital is this lifetime supposed to be only about duty why are you studying Italian so that just in case Italy ever invades Ethiopia again and is actually successful this time? ciao comes from if you must know it's an abbreviation of a phrase used by medieval venetians as an intimate salutation Sono il Suo Schiavo meaning i am your slave. om Naamah Shivaya meaning I honor the divinity that resides whin me. I wanted to experience both , I wanted worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence the dual glories of a human life I wanted what the Greeks called kalos kai agathos the singular balance of the good and he beautiful I'd been missing both during these last hard years because both pleasure and devotion require a stress free space in which to flourish and I'd been living in a giant trash compactor of nonstop anxiety , As for how to balance the urge for pleasure against the longing for devotion. four feet on the ground a head full of foliage looking at the world through the heart. it was more than I wanted to toughly explore one aspect of myself set against the backdrop of each country in a place that has traditionally done that one thing very well. same guatemalan musicians are always playing id rather be a sparrow than a snail on their bamboo windpipes oh how i want italian to open itself up to me i havent felt so starved for comprehension since then dal centro della mia vita venne una grande fontanana dolce sitl nuovo Dante wrote his divine comedy in terza rima triple rhyme a chain of rhymes with each rhyme repeating here times every five lines. lamor che move il sole e laltre stelle we are the masters of bel far niente larte darrangiarsi The reply in italy to you deserve a break today would probably be yeah no duh that's why I'm planning on taking a break at noon to go over to your house and sleep with your wife, I walked home to my apartment and soft-boiled a pair of fresh brown eggs for my lunch i peeled the eggs and arranged them on a plate beside the seven stalks of the asparagus (which were so slim and snappy they didn't need to be cooked at all,)I put some olives on the plate too and the four knobs of goat cheese I'd picked up yesterday from the fromagerie down the street tend two slices of pink oily salmon for dessert a lovely peach which the woman at the market had given to me for free and which was still warm form the roman sunlight for the longest time I couldn't even touch this food because it was such a masterpiece of lunch a true expression of the art of making something out of nothing finally when i had fully absorbed the prettiness of my meal i went and sat in apatch of sunbeam on my clean wooden floor and ate every bit of it with my fingers while reading my daily newspaper article in Italian happiness inhabited my every molecule. I am inspired by the regal self assurance of this town so grounded and rounded so amused and monumental knowing that she is held securely in the palm of history i would like to be like rome when i am an old lady. I linger over my food and wine for many hours because nobody in

There was Tim, strutting into the party in his flamboyant gay uniform, contrary to his belief that he had dressed the part of a straight man. His shirt was so tight it was screaming for mercy, the buttons straining to hold in the sheer power of his pecs. His pants, a pair of skintight masterpieces, clung to his thighs like a stage-5 clinger on a second date. -Kim Lee ‘The Big Apple Took a Bite Off Me’ Now on Amazon Books and Kindle

Learn one new thing daily whatever it may be, learn it continuously you will become a complete masterpiece.

You are the image of God predistine to rule, he gave u dominion as far as the earth is concerned. God also predestined you to be the best in this life, but only in your field(where your purpose is concerned). Before you were conceived God said: let us create a pilot, a doctor, an artist, a minister etc. Jeremiah is not the only one whom God knew and appointed before birth Jer1:4-5. You are also appointed by God in a certain field which you will never know until you understand your purpose and ask God about it. Read chapter one of #You-are-God's-masterpiece available online at Amazon,bookrix and many other stores.

Loving guides soon appear, glowing, radiant, and joyful. They orient you and answer your questions. They teach you. Remind you. Love you. Show you. Everything becomes clearer. You remember the hopes and intentions of your recent life and why you chose it. You review play by play all that happened. You see how things lined up or didn’t, and why. You’re awed by your power, wisdom, and kindness, saddened by what you missed, mistook, and misunderstood, yet inspired to know you can try again, make amends, and move forward with and into even greater love. Past lives come into view, along with the friends, loves, and lessons they contained. Everything starts making sense. It comes together like the most amazing artistic creation, a masterpiece that boggles your mind with its perfection, and you are humbled to find the paintbrush still in your hand.

The first American serial killer of the twentieth century was a strangler—Earle Leonard Nelson, aka the “Gorilla Murderer,” a Bible-quoting psycho who traveled from coast to coast, choking women to death before raping their corpses (Alfred Hitchcock also made a movie loosely inspired by this notorious case: his 1943 masterpiece, Shadow of a Doubt).

I have come to see Revelation as a beautiful book—an ingenious, inspired masterpiece of literature, calling us into beautiful lives worthy of the beautiful future prepared for this world by our beautiful God.

How will I forget the memory that happened on the 29th of September 2017? Bunso woke up early that day and asked me if we could paint. Of course, I said yes! I guided his hand in doing soft strokes in creating his requested "fireworks". Then I had to turn off the stove because I was cooking breakfast. When I came back, he was giggling and showed me what he did. He wrote the words 'I LOVE YOU' all by himself and he told me that he wanted to decorate his masterpiece with hearts and stars. I could not control my tears. Tears of joy perhaps because for the very first time, he tried his best to show his love and affection for me through art which he could not express through words. A moment like that has shown me how much God loves me. I may be experiencing struggles, doing more sacrifice, and adjusting to the needs of Bunso like other moms who have kids with special needs. At the end of the day, I know that there is a reason why God has given me Bunso. Perhaps He knows that I can love him unconditionally. Yes, I can and I do truly. I am so glad that he loves me too beyond words can express.

Many novelists—including Izumi Kyōka (1873–1939), Tanizaki Jun’ichirō (1886–1965), Akutagawa Ryūnosuke (1892–1927), Ishikawa Jun (1899–1987), Enchi Fumiko (1905–1986), and Mishima Yukio (1925–1970)—were avid readers of the collection. Two of the tales inspired Mizoguchi Kenji’s cinematic masterpiece Ugetsu monogatari (1953; known to Western viewers as Ugetsu), which is widely regarded as “one of the greatest of all films.

In the vast expanse of life's tapestry, we navigate the threads of love and loss, of discovery and growth. As one chapter concludes, remember that every moment, every connection, every revelation weaves together to form the masterpiece of our existence. e. Embrace the echoes of the past, step boldly into the unknown future, and let the symphony of your journey resonate eternally.

This she might not attempt. It was unladylike. Why? Why were most big things unladylike? Charlotte had once explained to her why. It was not that ladies were inferior to men; it was that they were different. Their mission was to inspire others to achievement rather than to achieve themselves.

Do not sweat and cry. Just work smart and produce the best results. Working smart is akin to sculpting. One has to chisel a block of wood until it becomes a masterpiece.

Put on your crown of glory and shine. You are a masterpiece meticulously created by the Father. A royal and a chosen one. Shine bright!

Life is a canvas; paint it with the colors of love, gratitude, and joy, creating a masterpiece of endless possibilities.

We are God’s workmanship. We’re his masterpieces. God created each one of us. He had a plan and a purpose for our lives before time even began, and he handcrafted us to be unique and bring beauty to the world, each in our own way. No, we won’t all have the perfect fashion sense, the cleanest house, be able to juggle it all, or have a Pinterest-perfect life. We won’t all have a platform or be an influencer or run a business or open an Etsy shop. We can’t be everything we admire in everyone we know. We can’t do foster care and host people all the time and make the most delicious bread and look like an ad for our local gym and homeschool and travel all over the country and lead five Bible studies and restore furniture on the side. Let’s learn from each other. Let’s be inspired by one another. And let’s fight against comparison. Against the lie that we have to do it all and be good at everything. Against the lie that we’re not enough, that what we have is not enough.

Silence, Patience & Dedication are the sign of a new masterpiece.

God made each person with intiment brush strokes, which no one else will have. Each one of his children has a spot designed and ready, that no one else can fit in, go find your spot that God made only for you.

Embrace the facets that set you apart, for it is in your uniqueness that the universe reveals its masterpiece.

External validation will never work until you know how to activate internal validation. It all starts within. Do the inner work and watch yourself become a masterpiece.

External validation will never be effective until you know how to activate your internal validation. It all starts within. Do the inner work and watch yourself become a masterpiece.

Your life is a masterpiece; make it colorful and full of meaning.

As painters, our brushes are our magic wands, and every room is our canvas. We transform each home into a masterpiece that reflects your dreams and style. From the colorful streets of Amager to the serene corners of Copenhagen, our passion for painting creates beautiful spaces that invite life and joy. Visit our website to explore our wide range of services and let us paint your next chapter. And if you're seeking inspiration specifically from Amager, check out our page to see how we've transformed some of the most beautiful homes in this area. Let's paint the stories of our lives, wall by wall.

The making of a ballplayer: the production of brute efficiency out of natural genius. For Schwartz this formed the paradox at the heart of baseball, or football, or any other sport. You loved it because you considered it an art: an apparently pointless affair, undertaken by people with a special aptitude, which sidestepped attempts to paraphrase its value yes somehow seemed to communicate something true or even crucial about The Human Condition. The Human Condition, basically, that we're alive and have access to beauty, can even erratically create it, but will someday be dead and will not. // Baseball was an art, but to excel at it you had to become a machine. It didn't matter how beautifully you performed ~sometimes, what you did on your best day, how many spectacular plays you made. You weren't a painter or a writer--you didn't work in private and discard your mistakes, and it wasn't just your masterpieces that counted. What mattered, as for any machine, was repeatability. Moments of inspiration were nothing compared to elimination of error. ... Can you perform on demand, like a car, a furnace, a gun? Can you make that throw one hundred times out of a hundred? If it can't be a hundred, it had better be ninety-nine.

When one is busy and absorbed in one's work, the very absorption affords great delight; but when one has withdrawn one's hand from the completed masterpiece, the pleasure is not so keen.” Seneca

Our identity is the canvas, and our purpose is the masterpiece we paint on it, evolving with each stroke of self-discovery.

In the tapestry of life, where each moment weaves its own thread, remember this: the past was but a canvas, and the present is the brushstroke of today. Embrace the masterpiece of your journey, for in every stroke, you'll find the promise that the best is yet to come.

Anger is a powerful force. It has started and ended wars, won the vote for marginalized groups like women and people of color, and inspired artists to create masterpieces ranging from Picasso’s Guernica to Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist. Anger was currently powering me and Kate through the twelfth department of the evening,

Make it large', life is a canvas. You can paint it to be 'a dot' or masterpiece it to be 'the universe

Layout your options, create a beautiful masterpiece of yours.

Some of us live in the future, Connected to hurts from our past, If tomorrow is colored by bitter regret, Then today has been painted black Some of us live in the present Connected to gifts from our past, If tomorrow is colored by purposeful thought, the today's masterpiece has been cast.

I am unique and a priceless masterpiece.

Unleash you masterpiece genius and let your authentic self be free.

Cultural Diplomacy—and an Accolade Among Piazzolla’s tasks during his first summer at the Chalet El Casco was the composition of “Le Grand Tango,” a ten-minute piece for cello and piano commissioned by Efraín Paesky, Director of the OAS Division of Arts, and dedicated to Mstislav Rostropovich, to whom Piazzolla sent the score. Rostropovich had not heard of Piazzolla at the time and did not look seriously at the music for several years.7 Written in ternary form, the work bears all Piazzolla’s hallmarks: tight construction, strong accents, harmonic tensions, rhythmic complexity and melodic inspiration, all apparent from the fierce cello scrapes at the beginning. Piazzolla uses intervals not frequently visited on the cello fingerboard. Its largely tender mood, notably on display in the cello’s snaking melodic line in the reflective middle section, becomes more profoundly complex in its emotional range toward the end. With its intricate juxtapositions of driving rhythms and heart-rending tags of tune, it is just about the most exciting music Piazzolla ever wrote, a masterpiece. Piazzolla was eager for Rostropovich to play it, but the chance did not come for eight years. Rostropovich, having looked at the music, and “astounded by the great talent of Astor,” decided he would include it in a concert. He made some changes in the cello part and wanted Piazzolla to hear them before he played the piece. Accordingly, in April 1990, he rehearsed it with Argentine pianist Susana Mendelievich in a room at the Teatro Colón, and Piazzolla gently coached the maestro in tango style—”Yes, tan-go, tan-go, tan-go.” The two men took an instant liking to one another.8 It was, says Mendelievich, “as if Rostropovich had played tangos all his life.” “Le Grand Tango” had its world premiere in New Orleans on April 24, 1990. Sarah Wolfensohn was the pianist. Three days later, they both played this piece again at the Gusman Cultural Center in Miami. [NOTE C] Rostropovich performed “Le Grand Tango” at the Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires, in July 1994; the pianist was Lambert Orkis. More recently, cellist Yo-Yo Ma has described “Le Grand Tango” as one of his “favorite pieces of music,” praising its “inextricable rhythmic sense...total freedom, passion, ecstasy.

We are but masterpieces waiting to happen, searching for our inspiration.

A rainbow is a storm's masterpiece.

You'll find more emotions of words in those crumpled & rolled papers thrown in the dustbin than the edited script you jolted down last night in your folder. More splashes of paints lay scattered around your drawing paint-plate, the brushes equally messed up with their romance with the colours before the actual finishing of a fine portrait. Your draft box breathes more words than the real, grammatically -groomed post on your blog. The room smells more of the combined samples of vividly used tropical, musky, floral essences mixed in different ratios to get the exotic cologne at the end. Gist is spending that extra cent to obtain a perfect blend. That extra counts to the journey of a masterpiece which later finds itself an identity of an extra-ordinary creation. You're that 'extra' to me who glorifies my existence and makes me feel like a clone-sister of masterpiece or rather a mistress-piece!!! ❤ - Shonali Dey (Shon Alley)

Petra is one of the densest palimpsests of human history. Layer upon layer of archaeological remains provide evidence of a fascinating story that stretches back for thousands of years. It is a masterpiece of human achievement, an aesthetic and architectural marvel, and the source of a huge amount of inspiration since the 19th century. One of the oldest settlements in the region, the site has a long biography tracing Neolithic, Graeco-Roman, Byzantine, and Crusader periods of history. Petra acquired a cosmopolitan atmosphere, as local communities were exposed to a number of different cultural influences. Petra’s

Your life is your masterpiece choose the puzzle pieces carefully. ~Janiece Rendon

Inspired by the works of Homer—and armed with a vase decoration technique that allowed the clay’s natural color to shine through to represent the tanned bodies of gods and warriors in more realistic colors—Euphronios and his cohorts established history’s earliest known “school” of art. They worked together in a part of Athens called the Kerameikos—a name taken from the word keramos, or clay, from which our “ceramic” is derived. Euphronios and his coterie of painters are known today as the Pioneers for the mark they made by popularizing the red-figure style.

It was not that ladies were inferior to men; it was that they were different. Their mission was to inspire others to achievement rather than to achieve themselves. Indirectly, by means of tact and a spotless name, a lady could accomplish much. But if she rushed into the fray herself she would be first censured, then despised, and finally ignored.

The universe is a masterpiece but is of little value to the blind.

The essence of influence is the ability to motivate other people to take action and effect change. You can't lead if you don't have influence. You can't influence if you don't inspire. You can't inspire if you don't have passion.. Don't rob us your unique gift that God deposited in you. You are God's masterpiece.

The past is done. The future is a blank canvas. Work on creating a masterpiece. Only you who have the power to make your painting beautiful.

Charm is deceptive, Wise is sly, having talent is impressive and that puzzles you why. I, but not you, know the mask that I wear. Like how a master knows its masterpiece which is unknown to the world.

Kind and lovely thought originate from God while evil and revengeful thoughts are initiated by the devil.

Humans are...extraordinary. It's a shame that we often forget that, and that we treat each other as anything less than the masterpieces we are.

Every great idea has a spark of inspiration. Divine…if the shoe fits. Every great spark of inspiration comes from a remarkably intense passion, love, or desire. It can be out of love for God, a family member, a lover, child, friend, or just out of a desire to be compassionate and help others. It can be an intense passion for music, art, physical comforts, or beauty. It can be from the desire to prove those who hurt, wrong, or doubt them wrong because they themselves are not yet capable of asking questions and chasing dreams which seem so far away. The paradox of any genius or creative virtuoso is that they see one plus one does not equal two and they do not consult the mathematicians to hear what they have to say about this. When the idea or project they desire to create is fueled from a combination of these previously mentioned factors and then ignited by a pure intention of their heart and soul it is more than the sum of its’ parts. It is no longer a song composed of a melody and words or a picture brushed with paint upon an easel. It is a masterpiece with an explanation which can only be hinted or pointed at. Just like the moon can only reflect the light passed on to it by the sun. Personally, a master watch maker is a person I look up to. They lovingly and thoughtfully put immense energy and concentration on putting seemingly small pieces into place that once put into place learn to work on their own in perfect synchronization and harmony. However, this working together of gears and pieces does not happen by itself; It happens because the master had a vision of what he wanted and put in the time, energy, love, and effort to make it happen. The designer didn’t have it materialize right in front of their face instantly. Rather, they had faith it would come together a piece at a time. It’s my mission to find as many of these Masters who don’t run away from their ability to love, be loved, and create. The more we present beauty to those around us, the quicker others will find light within themselves. The more assistance we give to those we know struggling with poverty both inside and externally, the quicker we change this world into what it’s meant to be.

Enjoy what you have, cherish the good times and savour everything life presents you. We can’t change the past… However, the future is a blank canvas, waiting for the paint, go create a masterpiece.

Life is a stage: perform your masterpiece.

And the true inspiration, the sparkling grace note of genius that brings his masterpiece to life, is the soprano counterpoint: a syncopated sequence of exterior hatches in the outer hull sliding open and closed and open again, subtly altering the aerodynamics of the ship to give it just exactly the amount of sideslip or lift or yaw to bring the huge half cruiser into the approach cone of a pinpoint target an eighth of the planet away.