To Love A Painting Is

In So Far As He Is A Creator, The Artist Does Not Belong To A Social Group Already Moulded By A Culture, But To A Culture Which He Is By Way Of Building Up.

An Individualism Which Has Got Beyond The Stage Of Hedonism Tends To Yield To The Lure Of The Grandiose. It Was Not Man, The Individual, Nor Even The Supreme Being, That Robespierre Set Up Against Christ; It Was That Leviathan, The Nation.

Some Pictures Are In The Gallery Because They Belong To Humanity And Others Because They Belong To The United States.

Could We Bring Ourselves To Feel What The First Spectators Of An Egyptian Statue, Or A Romanesque Crucifixion, Felt, We Would Make Haste To Remove Them From The Louvre. True, We Are Trying More And More To Gauge The Feelings Of Those First Spectators, But Without Forgetting Our Own, And We Can Be Contented All The More Easily With The Mere Knowledge Of The Former, Without Experiencing Them, Because All We Wish To Do Is Put This Knowledge To The Work Of Art.

No One Can Endure His Own Solitude.