Art Is Either Plagiarism Or Revolution.

Thanks To Our Cinctures And Corsets We Have Succeeded In Making An Artificial Being Out Of Woman. She Is An Anomaly, And Nature Herself, Obedient To The Laws Of Heredity, Aids Us In Complicating And Enervating Her. We Carefully Keep Her In A State Of Nervous Weakness And Muscular Inferiority, And In Guarding Her From Fatigue, We Take Away From Her Possibilities Of Development. Thus Modeled On A Bizarre Ideal Of Slenderness To Which, Strangely Enough, We Continue To Adhere, Our Women Have Nothing In Common With Us, And This, Perhaps, May Not Be Without Grave Moral And Social Disadvantages.

Many People Say That I Don't Know How To Draw Because I Don't Draw Particular Forms. When Will They Understand That Execution, Drawing And Color (in Other Words, Style) Must Be In Harmony With The Poem?

The Public Wants To Understand And Learn In A Single Day, A Single Minute, What The Artist Has Spent Years Learning.

In Art One Is Concerned With The Condition Of The Spirit For Three Quarters Of The Time; One Must Therefore Care For Oneself If He Wishes To Make Something Great And Lasting.

Poor Artist! You Gave Away Part Of Your Soul When You Painted The Picture Which You Are Now Trying To Dispose Of.