I Shut My Eyes In

We Never Really Know What Stupidity Is Until We Have Experimented On Ourselves.

Why Did I Hesitate To Put All This Glory Of The Sun On My Canvas?

Literary Poetry In A Painter Is Something Special, And Is Neither Illustration Nor The Translation Of Writing By Form.

There Are Two Sorts Of Beauty; One Is The Result Of Instinct, The Other Of Study. A Combination Of The Two, With The Resulting Modifications, Brings With It A Very Complicated Richness, Which The Art Critic Ought To Try To Discover.

If Instead Of A Figure You Put The Shadow Only Of A Person, You Have Found An Original Starting Point, That Strangeness Of Which You Have Calculated.