I'll Always Be Grateful To The Public

Chatter About Art Is Almost Always Useless.

If Isolation Tempers The Strong, It Is The Stumbling-block Of The Uncertain.

Under This Fine Rain I Breathe In The Innocence Of The World. I Feel Coloured By The Nuances Of Infinity. At This Moment I Am One With My Picture. We Are An Iridescent Chaos.

The Truth Is In Nature, And I Shall Prove It.

I Could Paint For A Hundred Years, A Thousand Years Without Stopping And I Would Still Feel As Though I Knew Nothing.