How Wrong Are Those Simpletons,

An Artist Does His Most Difficult Work When He Steps Back From The Blank Canvas And Thinks About What He Is Going To Create.

Draw, Antonio; Draw, Antonio; Draw And Don’t Waste Time.

Dear To Me Is Sleep: Still More, Being Made Of Stone, While Pain And Guilt Still Linger Here Below, Blindness And Numbness--these Please Me Alone; Then Do Not Wake Me, Keep Your Voices Low.

It Is Necessary To Keep One's Compass In One's Eyes And Not In The Hand, For The Hands Execute, But The Eye Judges.

It Is Well With Me Only When I Have A Chisel In My Hand.