“He is like an angel who floats for a little while on this planet and touches with his wings the canvas.”

— Karel Appel

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Karel Appel 58

Dutch painter, sculptor, and poet 1921–2006

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“One of those gifted ones that walk the earth,
Like angels in their beauty, and the while
The air is filled with music from their wings.”

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“On the highest steeps of Space he will have his dwelling-place,
In those far, terrific regions where the cold comes down like Death
Gleams the red glint of his pinions, smokes the vapor of his breath. Floating downward, very clear, still the echoes reach the ear
Of a little tune he whistles and a little song he sings,
Mounting, mounting still, triumphant, on his torn and broken wings!”

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“Costly followers are not to be liked; lest while a man maketh his train longer, he make his wings shorter.”

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“For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast.”

George Gordon Byron (1788–1824) English poet and a leading figure in the Romantic movement

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“The next question was — what makes planets go around the sun? At the time of Kepler some people answered this problem by saying that there were angels behind them beating their wings and pushing the planets around an orbit. As you will see, the answer is not very far from the truth. The only difference is that the angels sit in a different direction and their wings push inward.”

Richard Feynman book The Character of Physical Law

Source: The Character of Physical Law (1965), chapter 1, “The Law of Gravitation,” p. 18: video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3mhkYbznBk&t=17m10s

“The trouble with you, dear, is that you think an angel of the Lord as a creature with wings, whereas he is probably a scruffy little man with a bowler hat.”

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“One rich light
Broke thro' the shadow of the tempest's wing,
While the black clouds, with gold and purple edged,
Caught every moment warmer hues, until
'Twas all one sparkling arch, and, like a king
In triumph o'er his foes, the Sun god sought
The blue depths of the sea; — the waters yet
Were ruffled with the storm, and the white foam
Yet floated on the billows, while the wind
Murmured at times like to an angry child,
Who sobs even in his slumber.”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

(2nd February 1822) Poetic Sketches, No.4
The London Literary Gazette, 1821-1822

“A beautiful and ineffectual angel, beating in the void his luminous wings in vain.”

Matthew Arnold (1822–1888) English poet and cultural critic who worked as an inspector of schools

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“You’re so hypnotizing,
Could you be the devil, could you be an angel?
Your touch magnetizing,
Feels like going floating, leaves my body glowing.
They say be afraid,
You’re not like the others, futuristic lovers.
Different DNA, they don’t understand you.”

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“A Klee painting named ‘Angelus Novus’ shows an angel looking as though he is about to move away from something he is fixedly contemplating. His eyes are staring, his mouth is open, his wings are spread. This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe which keeps piling wreckage upon wreckage and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a storm is blowing in from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. This storm irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This storm is what we call progress.”

Walter Benjamin book Theses on the Philosophy of History

Source: Theses on the Philosophy of History (1940), IX

“He is like an angel who floats for a little while on this planet and touches with his wings the canvas.”

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Karel Appel 58

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