Cascar a nut is not really an art, and consequently no one would dare to congregate an auditorium to entertain him cascading nuts. But if he does and achieves his purpose, then it is no longer a merely cascar nuts. Or perhaps it is merely cascar nuts, but then we discover that we have fully carefree from that art because we dominated him too much, and this new nut cascader shows us for the first time the real essence of art, to the point that he could agree, For a greater effect, be a little less skilled in cascar nuts than most of us.
by Franz Kafka
(0 Reviews)

The act of cracking nuts may seem simple and unremarkable, not warranting the attention of an audience. However, if this seemingly mundane task is performed with intention and skill, it can transcend its ordinary nature. The performer might elevate the act into something more profound, showing that art can be found in even the most trivial activities when approached with creativity and passion.

This new perspective challenges our understanding of art, suggesting that true mastery may involve a degree of imperfection. The notion that one could achieve a greater effect by being less skilled than expected reveals the essence of art as a means of expression rather than mere technical prowess. Thus, the essence of art lies in its ability to provoke thought and emotion, regardless of the complexity of the act itself.

Stats

Categories
Author
Votes
0
Page views
4
Update
February 22, 2025

Rate the Quote

Add Comment & Review

User Reviews

Based on 0 reviews
5 Star
0
4 Star
0
3 Star
0
2 Star
0
1 Star
0
Add Comment & Review
We'll never share your email with anyone else.
More »

Other quotes in book quote

More »

Popular quotes

Taffy. He thinks about taffy. He thinks it would take his teeth out now, but he would eat it anyhow, if it meant eating it with her.
by Mitch Albom
Small towns are like metronomes; with the slightest flick, the beat changes.
by Mitch Albom
Look, if you say that science will eventually prove there is no God, on that I must differ. No matter how small they take it back, to a tadpole, to an atom, there is always something they can't explain, something that created it all at the end of the search. And no matter how far they try to go the other way – to extend life, play around with the genes, clone this, clone that, live to one hundred and fifty – at some point, life is over. And then what happens? When the life comes to an end? I shrugged. You see? He leaned back. He smiled. When you come to the end, that's where God begins.
by Mitch Albom
You say you should have died instead of me. But during my time on earth, people died instead of me, too. It happens every day. When lightning strikes a minute after you are gone, or an airplane crashes that you might have been on. When your colleague falls ill and you do not. We think such things are random. But there is a balance to it all. One withers, another grows. Birth and death are part of a whole.
by Mitch Albom
we get so many lives between birth and death. A life to be a child. A life to come of age. A life to wander, to settle, to fall in love, to parent, to test our promise, to realize our mortality-and, in some lucky cases, to do something after that realization.
by Mitch Albom
I have the tendency to be nervous at the sight of trouble looming. As the danger draws near, I become less nervous. When the peril is at hand, I swell with fierceness. As I grapple with my assailant, I am without fear and fight to the finish with little thought of injury.
by Jean Sasson
But an ink brush, she thinks, is a skeleton key for a prisoner's mind.
by David Mitchell
There's lying," says Mum, fishing out the envelope she wrote the directions on from her handbag, "which is wrong, and there's creating the right impression, which is necessary.
by David Mitchell
The nun said, I can forgive the language. I'm not sure I can forgive your making an obscene gesture at your mother. Ya gotta know her, Holland said. If you knew her, you'd give her the finger, too.
by John Sandford
Unlimited power in the hands of limited people always leads to cruelty.
by David Mitchell