A Quote by Francesco Guicciardini

One who imitates what is bad always goes beyond his model; while one who imitates what is good always comes up short of it. — © Francesco Guicciardini
One who imitates what is bad always goes beyond his model; while one who imitates what is good always comes up short of it.
He who imitates what is evil always goes beyond the example that is set; on the contrary, he who imitates what is good always falls short.
I feel like life imitates art, or art imitates life. I always take on roles that I'm passionate about.
Grace imitates modesty, as politeness imitates kindness.
Good painter imitates nature, bad ones spews it up.
"Art Imitates life," of course, is that phrase by Oscar Wilde. I called that song "Art Imitates Life" because Oh No was in the studio and he actually came up with that hook. When I was trying to figure out a name for the record, it just kind of made sense.
Paradoxically though it may seem, it is none the less true that life imitates art far more than art imitates life.
Art imitates life. Life imitates high school.
Music directly imitates the passions or states of the soul...when one listens to music that imitates a certain passion, he becomes imbued withthe same passion; and if over a long time he habitually listens to music that rouses ignoble passions, his whole character will be shaped to an ignoble form.
Art imitates life and, sometimes, life imitates art. It's a weird combination of elements.
It's very interesting how life imitates art, and art imitates life; I find, whenever I read scenes of some magnitude, I'm like, 'Oh, I feel like I've experienced this,' or 'I am experiencing this,' or 'I might start to experience it soon.'
Life imitates art far more than art imitates Life.
The artist, even when he imitates nature, always feels himself to be not a slave but a demigod.
Life doesn't imitate art, it imitates bad television.
I feel like art imitates life and life imitates art.
Each man in his life honors, and imitates as well as he can, that god to whose choir he belonged, while he is uncorrupted in his first incarnation here; and in the fashion he has thus learned, he bears himself to his beloved as well as to the rest. So, then, each chooses from among the beautiful a love conforming to his kind, and then, as if his chosen were his god, he sets him up and robes him for worship.
Only Zorbas become Buddhas - and Buddha was never a monk, A monk is one who has never been a Zorba and has become enchanted by the words of Buddhas. A monk is an imitator, he is false, pseudo. He imitates Buddhas. He may be Christian, he may be Buddhist, he may be a Hindu - that doesn't make much difference - but he imitates Buddhas.
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