In art the best is good enough. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In art the best is good enough. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In art the best is good enough. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In art the best is good enough. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In art the best is good enough. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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In art the best is good enough.

— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Good Best Enough

More “Good” Quotes

You tell me that yes, I can do it. I know. And I may do it, if I so choose.You tell me that no, I cannot. I say, Oh? I s — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
Death lurks in the shadows, just out of view. Now and then I see his reaching hand, uncertain of the blurry image that p — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
What if dragons breathed bubbles and purred when they cuddled and giggled at chivalrous knights for their troubles?What — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
Sipping teawith gleebeneath a gooseberry tree.I wish Alice were here.Oh, my dear,do not fear,she will be. — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
If there is no perfection of a work , be sure the perfection of a plan. — Cucuk Espe
Sound.Noisethe air employs.Melodies sweet.Tweet, tweet, tweet.Soft. Loud.A roaring crowd.Cluck. Caw. Crow.Tet, tet. Tis, — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
I slay dragons at night while you sleep. I see by the way your face contorts how they exist in your dreams. Willing a ma — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
I scared a little porcupineand caught a quill in my behind.It hurt so badly in my tail,but tugging on it made me yell.Th — Richelle E. Goodrich, Slaying Dragons
Determined, I riseand face the dawn with resolve.This time I will win. — Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes
Everything is temporary, almost like a passing fase, some of laughter Some of pain. What we would do, If we had the chan — Nikki Rowe
The sweetest melody that playson starry nights and wintry days,most soothing to my listening earsand calming to beleague — Richelle E. Goodrich, Making Wishes
These aren't still shots; the camera is always moving. And the scene is always just slipping out of sight, as if in spit — Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek