The work of art is already within the block of marble. I just chop off whatever isn't needed.

Man enjoys living on the edge of his dreams and neglects the real things of the world which are so beautiful. The ignorant and indifferent destroy beautiful things merely by looking at the marble. Things that remake the soul of him who understands them.

The delicate droop of the petals standing out in relief, is like the eyelid of a child.

The sculptor represents the transition from one pose to another he indicates how insensibly the first glides into the second. In his work we still see a part of what was and we discover a part of what is to be.

Mere exactitude, of which photography and moulage [life casting] are the lowest forms, does not inspire feelings.

True artists are almost the only men who do their work for pleasure.

Inside you there's an artist you don't know about. He's not interested in how things look different in moonlight.