Exactitude Is Not Truth.

The Residuum Of Another's Expression Can Never Be Related To One's Own Feeling.

From Bonheur De Vivre - I Was Thirty-five Then - To This Cut-out - I Am Eighty-two - I Have Not Changed; Not In The Way My Friends Mean Who Want To Compliment Me, No Matter What, On My Good Health, But Because All This Time I Have Looked For The Same Things, Which I Have Perhaps Realized By Different Means.

Work Cures Everything.

An Artist Must Possess Nature. He Must Identify Himself With Her Rhythm, By Efforts That Will Prepare The Mastery Which Will Later Enable Him To Express Himself In His Own Language.

Truly, I'm Not Joking When I Thank My Lucky Stars For The Awful Operation I Had, Since It Has Made Me Young Again And Philosophical Which Means That I Don't Want To Fritter Away The New Lease On Life I've Been Given.