In this quote by Nancy Springer, the author presents three options for individuals: to conform, go crazy, or become an artist. This quote suggests that there are different paths one can take in life - either conforming to societal norms, losing oneself in rebellion or madness, or channeling one's emotions and experiences into art. Springer's words encourage us to explore our own creativity and individuality, emphasizing the importance of self-expression and thinking outside the box. By posing these three options, Springer challenges us to consider the consequences of each path and make choices that align with our own values and aspirations.
In today's fast-paced society, the quote "Conform, go crazy, or become an artist" by Nancy Springer holds significant modern relevance. This quote reminds us of the importance of embracing our individuality and creativity in a world that often pushes us to conform to societal norms. It encourages us to think outside the box, be true to ourselves, and express our unique perspectives through artistry. In a world that can sometimes feel suffocating with conformity, this quote serves as a powerful reminder to stay true to ourselves and embrace our inner artist.
One of Nancy Springer's famous quotes is "“Conform, go crazy, or become an artist.” This quote highlights the idea that one can choose to conform to societal norms, rebel against them and go crazy, or channel their creativity into becoming an artist. It suggests the different paths individuals can take in life when faced with societal expectations and pressures.
In this quote by Nancy Springer, she presents us with three options: conform, go crazy, or become an artist. Consider the following questions for reflection:
“To her, everything is beautiful in its own way, and everyone is a friend just waiting for her. And somehow it works for her.”
“what's life without a spice of stupidity”
“In the blue sky overhead, larks sang like my heart.”
“He was just a sixteen-year old boy who had been killed, a kid whose photo had been in the paper, a kid who would mostly be forgotten by the time the newspaper went into the garbage-yet he was the universe, all the dying, all the crying. He was everyone who had ever died young.”
“Stop it,' he whispered. Hid lidded eyes winced. His hands faltered up to cover his face.Dusty did not stop. 'If I'd known you-if I'd known you when you were alive, I think I would have loved you, too.'Dusty, please stop.' He could barely speak. I think I do love you.' Her voice had dropped to a whisper, because it was a truth like a silver sword. 'I think I do. I cry, too.”
“I hope that the kind reader recognises this as a despairing attempt at humour.”