Bad company is as instructive as licentiousness. One makes up for the loss of one's innocence with the loss of one's prejudices.
(Denis Diderot (1713-1784), French philosopher, encyclopedist, dramatist, novelist, art critic. First published in French retranslation from Goethe's German translation (1821). Rameau's Nephew (Le Neveu de Rameau), p. 90, Paris, Garnier Flammarion (1983).
Dialogue between Me (alias Diderot) and Him (nephew of composer). Him is making this statement.)
Nothing that grieves us can be called little: by the eternal laws of proportion a child's loss of a doll and a king's loss of a crown are events of the same size.
(Mark Twain [Samuel Langhorne Clemens] (1835-1910), U.S. author. "Which Was the Dream?" (Written 1897), published in Which Was the Dream and Other Symbolic Writings, ed. John S. Tuckey (1967).
Unfinished story; real name is Samuel Langhorne Clemens.)
If I use the media, even with tricks, to publicise a black youth being shot in the back in Teaneck, New Jersey ... then I should be praised for it, and it's more of a comment on them than me that it would take tricks to make them cover the loss of life.
(Al, Rev. Sharpton (b. 1954), U.S. civil rights campaigner. Independent on Sunday (London, April 21, 1991).)
I never saw love as luck, as that gift from the gods which put everything else in place, and allowed you to succeed. No, I saw love as reward. One could find it only after one's virtue, or one's courage, or self-sacrifice, or generosity, or loss, has succeeded in stirring the power of creation.
(Norman Mailer (b. 1923), U.S. author. Harry Hubbard, in Harlot's Ghost, Omega 6, Random House (1991).)
The history of modern art is also the history of the progressive loss of art's audience. Art has increasingly become the concern of the artist and the bafflement of the public.
(Henry Geldzahler (1935-1994), Belgian-born U.S. curator, art critic. repr. In The New Art: A Critical Anthology, ed. Gregory Battcock (1966, rev. 1973). "The Art Audience and the Critic," Hudson Review (New York, Spring 1965).)
The boys dressed themselves, hid their accoutrements, and went off grieving that there were no outlaws any more, and wondering what modern civilization could claim to have done to compensate for their loss. They said they would rather be outlaws a year in Sherwood Forest than President of the United States forever.
(Mark Twain [Samuel Langhorne Clemens] (1835-1910), U.S. author. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, ch. 8 (1876).)