The days you work are the best days.

My first memory is of the brightness of light — light all around.

I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty.

I don't very much enjoy looking at paintings in general. I know too much about them. I take them apart.

Art is a wicked thing. It is what we are.

Bement was a very good teacher but he was a very poor painter. I guess he wasn't a painter at all. He had no courage and I believe that to create one's own world in any of the arts takes courage.

One day a hummingbird flew in-- It fluttered against the window til I got it down where I could reach it with an open umbrella-- --When I had it in my hand it was so small I couldn't believe I had it--but I could feel the intense life--so intense and so tiny-- ...You were like the humming bird to me... And I am rather inclined to feel that you and I know the best part of one another without spending much time together-- --It is not that I fear the knowing-- It is that I am at this moment willing to let you be what you are to me--it is beautiful and pure and very intensely alive.