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.

The spirit must be felt so intensely that it has power to call others in passing, for it must pass, not stop in the pictures.

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.

I made myself into an envelope into which I could thrust my work deep, lick the flap, seal it from everybody.

Twenty can't be expected to tolerate sixty in all things, and sixty gets bored stiff with twenty's eternal love affairs.

There is something bigger than fact: the underlying spirit, all it stands for, the mood, the vastness, the wildness.

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.