the capacity to work feeds on itself and has its own course of development. This is what artists have going for them.

January is my favorite month, when the light is plainest, least colored. And I like the feeling of beginnings.

I had forgotten what sleep is like - a kingdom all its own.

I never decided at all to be an artist; being an artist seems to have happened to me.

There is an appalling amount of mechanical work in the artist's life ... Talent is mysterious, but the qualities that guard, foster, and direct it are not unlike those of a good quartermaster.

It is ultimately character that underwrites art.

The art of being officially old seems to lie in cooperative submission.