He Who Is Discouraged After A Failure

The Artist Is The Confidant Of Nature, Flowers Carry On Dialogues With Him Through The Graceful Bending Of Their Stems And The Harmoniously Tinted Nuances Of Their Blossoms, Every Flower Has A Cordial Word Which Nature Directs Towards Him.

I Would Have To Talk For A Year To Repeat A Single On Of My Works With Words.

In Front Of The Model I Work With The Same Will To Reproduce Truth As If I Were Making A Portrait. I Do Not Correct Nature, I Incorporate Myself Into It; It Directs Me. I Can Only Work With A Model. The Sight Of Human Forms Nourishes And Comforts Me.

Art Is Contemplation. It Is The Pleasure Of The Mind Which Searches Into Nature And Which There Divines The Spirit Of Which Nature Herself Is Animated.

The Work Of Art Is Already Within The Block Of Marble. I Just Chop Off Whatever Isn't Needed.