Quotes by Konstantin Gheorghevici Paustovski

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Love has thousands of faces and each of them has its light, its sadness, its happiness and its fragrance.

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Knowledge is organically linked to human imagination. At first glance, this is a paradoxical law that can be expressed as follows: the power of imagination increases as knowledge increases.

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Every minute, every word and every casual look, every deep thought or jest, every unobserved movement of the human heart, is like the flying fluff of the poplar, or like the fire of the star on the night vault, — all these are the specks of golden dust. We, the people of letters, have been extracting these millions of grains of sand for decades, gathering them secretly even from ourselves, turning them into an alloy from which we then make "a golden rose" - a story, a novel or a poem.

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Every man, at least a few times in his life, had a moment of inspiration of soul elevation, freshness, vivid perception of reality, fullness of thoughts and awareness of the power of creation

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We must be masters of the art of all times and all countries.

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We still neglect the beauty of nature and do not know the full power of its influence on the culture and morals of man.

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Our creation is given so that the beauty of the earth, the call to fight for happiness, joy and freedom, the vastness of the human heart and the power of reason, defeat the darkness and shine like a sun that never sets.

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Let's not talk about love, because until now we don't know what it is.

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Impropriety makes man indifferent to the world around him, and this indifference grows slowly but irreversibly like a cancerous tumor.

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Waiting for better days is sometimes much better than these days.

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He who has no sense of sadness is as unhappy as he who does not know what joy is or who has lost his sense of humor. If at least one of these traits is characteristic of you, it means that your spiritual limitation is irreparable.

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Knowledge of all fields related to art - poetry, painting, architecture, sculpture and music - particularly enriches the inner world of the prose writer, giving a special expressiveness to his prose. It is filled with the light and colors of the painting, acquires the volume and freshness of the words specific to poetry, is enriched with the proportions of the architecture, with the reliefs and clarity of the lines of the sculpture and with the rhythm and harmony of the music. All these are the additional riches of the prose, its colors.

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Artistic conception, like lightning, is born in the human consciousness full of thoughts, feelings and notes of memory. All this adds up little by little, until they reach that degree of tension that requires an inevitable discharge. Then all this tense and slightly chaotic atmosphere gives birth to a flash - the artistic conception.

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If man were deprived of the ability to dream, one of the most powerful stimulating reasons, creators of culture, art, science, but also the desire to fight for a wonderful future would disappear.

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Inspiration is an austere working disposition of man.

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Imagination awakened in life, gains power over life.

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The genius is so rich inside that any theme, any thought, fact or object awakens a whole string of associations.

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I deeply love nature, the power of the human spirit and its true ideal. And this one is never noisy... Never! The more you love an ideal, the deeper you hide it in your heart and the more firmly you hold onto it.

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The voice of conscience and faith in the future does not allow a true writer to live on earth like a fruitless flower that does not transmit to people. Generously the vast variety of thoughts and feelings with which he is filled.

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The writer's business consists in conveying, or as they say, bringing to the knowledge of his readers, his associations, and awakening them to the same associations. The painter's job is to resist suffering with all his strength and talent. The painter's job is to give joy.

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Inspiration comes to us like a bright summer morning, sprinkled with dew, with damp leafy bushes, which have just driven away the mists of the quiet night. She gently blows us in the face with her healing coolness. Inspiration is like first love, when the heart beats fast at the premonition of wonderful meetings, extraordinarily beautiful eyes, smiles and emotions.

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In any field of human science there is an abyss of poetry.

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In the true vocation of a writer there are none of those qualities which cheap skeptics ascribe to him—neither personal pathos, nor the writer's emphatic consciousness of his own special role.

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The richness of associations tells us about the inner richness of the writer.

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Guard love like a precious ornament. It is enough to misbehave with love once and the next one will be full of shortcomings.