A Puny Body Weakens The

Fruits ... Like Having Their Portrait Painted. They Seem To Sit There And Ask Your Forgiveness For Fading. Their Thought Is Given Off With Their Perfumes. They Come With All Their Scents, They Speak Of The Fields They Have Left, The Rain Which Has Nourished Them, The Daybreaks They Have Seen.

I Ask You To Pray For Me, For Once Age Has Overtaken Us, We Find Consolation Only In Religion.

My Age And Health Will Never Allow Me To Realize The Dream Of Art I've Been Pursuing All My Life.

A Thousand Painters Ought To Be Killed Yearly. Say What You Like: I'm Every Inch A Painter.

Genius Is The Ability To Renew One's Emotions In Daily Experience.