The Work Of A Man Is The

There Is No Such Thing As Exaggerated Art. I Even Believe That There Is Salvation Only In Extreme.

Why Work? The Gods Are There To Lavish Upon The Faithful The Good Gifts Of Nature.

When The Physical Organism Breaks Up, The Soul Survives. It Then Takes On Another Body.

A Critic In My House Sees Some Paintings. Greatly Perturbed, He Asks For My Drawings. My Drawings? Never! They Are My Letters, My Secrets.

By The Combination Of Lines And Colors, Under The Pretext Of Some Motif Taken From Nature, I Create Symphonies And Harmonies That Represent Nothing Absolutely Real In The Ordinary Sense Of The Word But Are Intended To Give Rise To Thoughts As Music Does.