The liveness in me just loves to feel the liveness in growing things, in grass and rain and leaves and flowers and sun and feathers and furs and earth and sand and moss.

You always feel when you look it straight in the eye that you could have put more into it, could have let yourself go and dug harder.

The biggest part of painting perhaps is faith, and waiting receptively, content to go any way, not planning or forcing. The fear, though, is laziness. It is so easy to drift and finally be tossed up on the beach, derelict.

Be careful that you do not write or paint anything that is not your own, that you don't know in your own soul.

You come into the world alone and you go out of the world alone yet it seems to me you are more alone while living than even going and coming.

What a splendid time Woo must have had.

Up came the sun, and drank the dew.