I never felt that there was anything enviable in youth. I cannot recall that any of us, as youths, admired our condition to excess or had a desire to prolong it.

No artifact is a work of art if it does not help to humanize us. Without art...our world would have remained a jungle.

I walk in the garden, I look at the flowers and shrubs and trees and discover in them an exquisiteness of contour, a vitality of edge, or a vigour of spring, as well as an infinite variety of colour that no artefact I have seen in the last sixty years can rival...each day, as I look, I wonder where my eyes were yesterday.

I would willingly stand at street corners, hat in hand, begging passerby to drop their unused minutes into it.

Who will free me from hurry, flurry, the feeling of a crowd pushing behind me, of being hustled and crushed? How can I regain even for a minute the feeling of ample leisure I had during my early, my creative years? Then I seldom felt fussed, or hurried. There was time for work, for play, for love, the confidence that if a task was not done at the appointed time, I easily could fit it into another hour. I used to take leisure for granted, as I did time itself.

I wonder whether art has a higher function than to make me feel, appreciate, and enjoy natural objects for their art value?

International affairs will be placed on a better footing when it is understood that there is no way of punishing a people for the crimes of its rulers.