Great Art Picks Up Where Nature Ends.

Art Seems To Me To Be Above All A State Of Soul.

My Hands Were Too Soft.. I Had To Find Some Special Occupation, Some Kind Of Work That Would Not Force Me To Turn Away From The Sky And The Stars, That Would Allow Me To Discover The Meaning Of Life.

On Cannot Be Precise, And Still Be True.

Love And Fantasy, Go Hand In Hand.

When I Am Finishing A Picture, I Hold Some God-made Object Up To It - A Rock, A Flower, The Branch Of A Tree Or My Hand - As A Final Test. If The Painting Stands Up Beside A Thing Man Cannot Make, The Painting Is Authentic. If There's A Clash Between The Two, It's Bad Art.