Listen! There was never an artistic period. There was never an art-loving nation.
Mauve is just pink trying to be purple.
The work of a master reeks not of the sweat of the brow - suggests no effort - and is finished from its beginning.
If other people are going to talk, conversation becomes impossible.
Work alone will efface the footsteps of work.
I maintain that two and two would continue to make four, in spite of the whine of the amateur for three, or the cry of the critic for five.