Brush Quotes

“I brushed it until it shone and looked somewhat like it used to look,
only far thinner, and less glorious.”
― V.C. Andrews, Flowers in the Attic

“It's with my brush that I make love.”
― Pierre-Auguste Renoir

“Spring as always was in full bloom, the breeze laden with lilac, the brush flanking the path rustling with life.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Mist and Fury

“I wish I had a brush that could paint the whole sky and turn every morning into night. I wish I could always sleep next to you in the never ending night and hold your hand, watching the reflection of all the stars in your eyes, while you smile and watch them in the sky with wonder.”
― Akshay Vasu

“But every stroke of the brush, every lyric, every word whispered between human beings resulted from the pain of being alone. In our haunted heads, our imperfect bodies. Islands carved from clay and bone, our skulls like shells full of mist.”
― Leah Raeder, Cam Girl

“On the canvas of life,
Every sweep of the brush matters,
Counts for something…”
― Scott Hastie

“Every life is a canvas and every interaction is a brush, therefore we’d be wise to consider how we handle the paint.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“Having the right brush does not mean you will make the right painting.”
― Catherine Meurisse, La jeune femme et la mer

“Diamonds are always found in mud, thus if you want to shine like a diamond, you should start brushing off the muds in your life.”
― Genereux Philip

“A small silver-handled shaving brush... a folding-blade razor... an empty soap dish... a lidded porcelain box with a silver top. Unable to resist, Beatrix lifted the top and looked inside. She found three pairs of cuff links, two in silver, one in gold, a watch chain, and a brass button. Replacing the lid, Beatrix picked up the shaving brush and experimentally touched her cheek with it. The bristles were silky and soft. With the movement of the soft fibers, a pleasant scent was released from the brush. A spicy hint of shaving soap.
Holding the brush closer to her nose, Beatrix drew in the scent... masculine richness... cedar, lavender, bay leaves. She imagined Christopher spreading lather over his face, stretching his mouth to one side, all the masculine contortions she had seen her father and brother perform in the act of removing bristle from their faces.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Love in the Afternoon

“Art arises when the heart becomes overcast with feelings and the hands hold the brush, trembling, unsure of what will flow, yet what flows is a beauty, so virgin and pure.”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Imaginative people remain distinguished ....for their heavenly madness. ...They do not run away from chaos or the stab of grief....but by encountering and getting to grips with loss...they force it to crack open and make a sense, sanity out of that insanity....They tear apart the haze to peer through the fog...for the pen they hold...the brush they move on the canvas....takes them to chase the meaningless and resurface with a meaning.....”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Art comes with a splash of colors ...as you get torn between depression and elation...agony and ecstasy ...and with the surging and slowing of tides.. there arises the gentle and fierce brush strokes....ultimately creating a mix of emotions on the canvas and there comes the colors on a blank canvas...an art....so virgin, raw and pure...”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Art comes with a splash of colors ...as you get torn between depression and elation...agony and ecstasy ...and with the surging and slowing of tides.. there arises the gentle and fierce brush strokes....ultimately creating a mix of emotions on the cloth and there comes the colors on a blank ...an art....so virgin, raw and pure....”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee

“Art comes with a splash of colors ...as you get torn between depression and elation...agony and ecstasy ...and with the surging and slowing of tides.. there arises the gentle and fierce brush strokes....ultimately creating a mix of emotions on the cloth and there comes the colors on a blank canvas ...an art....so virgin, raw and pure....”
― Jayita Bhattacharjee