1,271 Quotes About Genius

Cloaked in the most valuable invisibilities, she’s a seamstress wearing knitted concepts of genius fitted like the elegant dress of a dazzling princess. Yet, no matter how lofty, the messages of her precious lips always land softly with her ability to keep kissing me with the sweetest simplicities.

That's what I thought. When I looked that human in the face, I figured he was either a genius or crazy.'Artemis's cool eyes glared at them from the screen.'So which is it?' asked Foaly. 'A genius or crazy?'Root grabbed his tri-barreled blaster from the gun rack.'What's the difference?' he snapped, strapping his trusty weapon to his hip.

The truth is that solitude is the creative condition of genius, religious or secular, and the ultimate sterilising of it. No human soul can long ignore "the giant agony of the world" and live, except indeed the mollusc life, a barnacle upon eternity.

Poetry destroyed? Genius banished? No! Mediocrity, no: do not let envy prompt you to the thought. No; they not only live, but reign, and redeem: and without their divine influence spread everywhere, you would be in hell--the hell of your own meanness.

Any self-realized being has access to the dynamic genius which nature gives all beings.

A lack of illusion is golden, and it is quite possible that creativity is the highest form of intelligence. One might further develop oneself in the creative sense and, therefore, at times, find some degree of shame more so than pride when having always followed that of the safe and ever-praised academia.

The word genius was whispered into my ear the first things I ever Heard while I was still mewling in my crib, laughs Orson (Welles), so it never occured to me that I wasn't until middle age

There is no sharp distinction betwixt the real and the unreal; all things appear as they do only by virtue of the delicate individual physical and mental media through which we are made conscious of them; but the prosaic materialism of the majority condemns as madness the flashes of supersight which penetrate the common veil of obvious empiricism.

There's very little authentic study of the humanities remaining. My research assistant came to me two years ago saying she'd been in a seminar in which the teacher spent two hours saying that Walt Whitman was a racist. This isn't even good nonsense. It's insufferable.