Taste For Things Of The Past Evolves,

The Older I Grow, The More I Find Myself Alone.

When I Make My Drawings... The Path Traced By My Pencil On The Sheet Of Paper Is, To Some Extent, Analogous To The Gesture Of A Man Groping His Way In The Darkness.

I See Something, Find It Marvelous, Want To Try And Do It. Whether It Fails Or Whether It Comes Off In The End Becomes Secondary. . . . So Long As I've Learned Something About Why.

If The Glass There In Front Of Me Astounds Me More Than All The Glasses I've Seen In Painting, And If I Even Think That The Greatest Architectural Wonder Of The World Couldn't Affect Me More Than This Glass, It's Really Not Worth While Going To The Indies To See Some Temple Or Other When I Have As Much And More Right In Front Of Me.

Only Reality Interests Me Now And I Know I Could Spend The Rest Of My Life In Copying A Chair.