What A Genius, That Picasso. It Is

The Dignity Of The Artist Lies In His Duty Of Keeping Awake The Sense Of Wonder In The World. In This Long Vigil He Often Has To Vary His Methods Of Stimulation; But In This Long Vigil He Is Also Himself Striving Against A Continual Tendency To Sleep.

If All Life Moves Inevitably Towards Its End, Then We Must, During Our Own, Colour It With Our Colours Of Love And Hope.

Will God Or Someone Give Me The Power To Breathe My Sigh Into My Canvases, The Sigh Of Prayer And Sadness, The Prayer Of Salvation, Of Rebirth?

Despite All The Troubles Of Our World, In My Heart I Have Never Given Up On The Love In Which I Was Brought Up Or On Man's Hope In Love. In Life, Just As On The Artist's Palette, There Is But One Single Colour That Gives Meaning To Life And Art–the Colour Of Love

Great Art Picks Up Where Nature Ends.