I Regard It As A

All The Sorrow, All The Bitterness, All The Sadness, I Forget Them And Ignore Them In The Joy Of Working.

I Remember That, Although I Was Full Of Fervour, I Didn't Have The Slightest Inkling, Even At Forty, Of The Deeper Side To The Movement We Were Pursuing By Instinct. It Was In The Air!

One Can Do Such Lovely Things With So Little. Subjects That Are Too Beautiful End By Appearing Theatrical.

I Sometimes Have A Horrible Fear Of Turning Up A Canvas Of Mine. I'm Always Afraid Of Finding A Monster In Place Of The Precious Jewels I Thought I Had Put There!

It Is Only By Drawing Often, Drawing Everything, Drawing Incessantly, That One Fine Day You Discover To Your Surprise That You Have Rendered Something In Its True Character.