Singing has always seemed to me the most perfect means of expression. It is so spontaneous. And after singing, I think the violin. Since I cannot sing, I paint.

War is killing the individual in it unless he has learned livingness - if he had it he wouldn't be a good soldier.

My first memory is of the brightness of light ... light all around. I was sitting among pillows on a quilt on the ground ... very large white pillows.

Fill a space in a beautiful way.

I wish people were all trees and I think I could enjoy them then.

To make your unknown known - that's the important thing.

I don't see why we ever think of what others think of what we do – no matter who they are. Isn't it enough just to express yourself?