My Mirror Probes Down To The Heart.

Be Winged Arrows Aiming At Fulfillment And Goal.

The Longer A Line, The More Of The Time Element It Contains. Distance Is Time Whereas A Surface Is Apprehended More In Terms Of The Moment.

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.

What My Art Probably Lacks Is A Kind Of Passionate Humanity... There Is No Sensuous Relationship, Not Even The Noblest, Between Myself And The Many.

We Document, Explain, Justify, Construct, Organize: These Are Good Things, But We Do Not Succeed In Coming To The Whole. But We May As Well Calm Down: Construction Is Not Absolute. Our Virtue Is This: By Cultivating The Exact We Have Laid The Foundations For A Science Of Art, Including The Unknown X.