What A Horrible Thing Yellow Is.

Only When He No Longer Knows What He Is Doing Does The Painter Do Good Things.

I Felt So Insufficiently Equipped, So Unprepared, So Weak, And At The Same Time It Seemed To Me That My Reflections On Art Were Correct. I Quarreled With All The World And With Myself.

The Air You Breathe In A Picture Is Not Necessarily The Same As The Air Out Of Doors.

I Really Have A Lot Of Stuff In My Head; If Only There Were Insurance Companies For That As There Are For So Many Things.

The Frame Is The Pimp Of Painting; It Enhances It, But It Must Never Shine At The Painting's Expense.