I Paint In Order Not To Cry.

Light And The Rational Forms Are Locked In Combat; Light Sets Them Into Motion, Bends What Is Straight, Makes Parallels Oval, Inscribes Circles In The Intervals, Makes The Intervals Active.

You Adapt Yourself To The Contents Of The Paintbox.

The Worst State Of Affairs Is When Science Begins To Concern Itself With Art.

Nothing Can Be Rushed. It Must Grow, It Should Grow Of Itself, And If The Time Ever Comes For That Work, Then So Much The Better!

Satire Must Not Be A Kind Of Superfluous Ill Will, But Ill Will From A Higher Point Of View. Ridiculous Man, Divine God. Or Else, Hatred Against The Bogged-down Vileness Of Average Man As Against The Possible Heights That Humanity Might Attain.