The Camera Will Never Compete With The

Any Number Of Holier-than-thou Honorable Realists Walk Around In The Belief That They Have Accomplished Something, Simply Because They Tell You For The Hundredth Time That A Field Is Green And A Red-painted House Is Painted Red.

Without Fear And Disease, My Life Would Be Like A Boat Without Oars.

To Die Is As If One's Eyes Had Been Put Out And One Cannot See Anything Any More. Perhaps It Is Like Being Shut In A Cellar. One Is Abandoned By All. They Have Slammed The Door And Are Gone. One Does Not See Anything And Notices Only The Damp Smell Of Putrefaction.

Youth Must Go Ahead And Prosper. These Young Painters Are All Very Talented People, But They All Paint Frescoes.

A Person Himself Believes That All The Other Portraits Are Good Likenesses Except The One Of Himself.