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For these few days the hills are bright with cherry blossom. Longer, and we should not prize them so.
(Yamabe no Akahito)

Color is all. When color is right, form is right. Color is everything, color is vibration like music; everything is vibration.
Marc Chagall

I call architecture frozen music.
(Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

Art does not reproduce the visible; rather, it makes visible.
(Paul Klee, Creative Credo, 1920)

The fairest thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that lies at the cradle of true art and true science. He who knows it not, who can no longer feel amazement, is as good as dead, a snuffed out candle.
(Albert Einstein)

In the garden of thy heart plant naught but the rose of love.
(The Hidden Words of Bahá'u'lláh)

Art is a mystery.
A mystery is something immeasurable.
In so far as every child and woman and man may be immeasurable, art is the mystery of every man and woman and child. In so far as a human being is an artist, skies and mountains and oceans and thunderbolts and butterflies are immeasurable; and art is every mystery of nature.
(e. e. cummings, Forward to an Exhibit: II)

"Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide
Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time.
The night is my companion and solitude my guide
Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied.
(Sarah McLachlan, Possession)

Flowers distill'd, though they with winter meet,
Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.
(Shakespeare, Sonnet V)

Thus, it hath become evident that the terms "sun," "moon," and "stars" primarily signify the Prophets of God, the saints, and their companions, those Luminaries, the light of Whose knowledge hath shed illumination upon the worlds of the visible and the invisible.
(Bahá’u'lláh)

Art evokes the mystery without which the world would not exist.
(René Magritte)

Do not copy nature too much. Art is an abstraction.
(Paul Gauguin)

. . . he will, through the loving care of the Holy Gardener drink in the crystal waters, of the spirit and of knowledge, like a young tree amid the rilling brooks. And certainly he will gather to himself the bright rays of the Sun of Truth, and through its light and heat will grow ever fresh and fair in the garden of life.
('Abdu'l-Bahá)

The Blessed Beauty saith: 'Ye are all the fruits of one tree, the leaves of one branch.' Thus hath He likened this world of being to a single tree, and all its peoples to the leaves thereof, and the blossoms and fruits. It is needful for the bough to blossom, and leaf and fruit to flourish, and upon the interconnection of all parts of the world-tree, dependeth the flourishing of leaf and blossom, and the sweetness of the fruit.
(Selections from the Writings of Abdu'l-Baha)

Everything vanishes around me, and works are born as if out of the void. Ripe, graphic fruits fall off. My hand has become the obedient instrument of a remote will.
(Paul Klee, The Diaries of Paul Klee)