God told me if I painted that mountain enough, I could have it.

I decided to start anew-to strip away what I had been taught, to accept as true my own thinking. This was one of the best times of my life. There was no one around to look at what I was doing, no one interested, no one to say anything about it one way or another. I was alone and singularly free, working into my own, unknown-no one to satisfy but myself. I began with charcoal and paper and decided not to use any color until it was impossible to do what I wanted to do in black and white. I believe it was June before I needed blue.

I have lived on a razors edge. So what if you fall off. I'd rather be doing something I wanted to do. I'd walk it again.

I look at my work and make up my mind about it. After that, neither flattery nor criticism matters to me.

I believe I would rather have Stieglitz like something - anything I had done - than anyone else I know.

I often lay on that bench looking up into the tree, past the trunk and up into the branches. It was particularly fine at night with the stars above the tree.

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