My Mirror Probes Down To

One Does Not Lash Hat Lies At A Distance. The Foibles That We Ridicule Must At Least Be A Little Bit Our Own. Only Then Will The Work Be A Part Of Our Own Flesh. The Garden Must Be Weeded.

Nature Can Afford To Be Prodigal In Everything, The Artist Must Be Frugal Down To The Last Detail. Nature Is Garrulous To The Point Of Confusion, Let The Artist Be Truly Taciturn.

The Artist Of Today Is More Than An Improved Camera, He Is More Complex, Richer, And Wider. He Is A Creature On The Earth And A Creature Within The Whole, That Is, A Creature On A Star Among Stars.

Everything Passes, And What Remains Of Former Times, What Remains Of Life, Is The Spiritual. In Everything We Do, The Claim Of The Absolute Is Unchanging.

Nothing Can Be Rushed. It Must Grow, It Should Grow Of Itself, And If The Time Ever Comes For That Work, Then So Much The Better!