For art and joy go together, with bold openness, and high head, and ready hand - fearing naught and dreading no exposure.

The work of a master reeks not of the sweat of the brow - suggests no effort - and is finished from its beginning.

Mauve is just pink trying to be purple.

Listen! There was never an artistic period. There was never an art-loving nation.

The vast majority of English folk cannot and will not consider a picture as a picture, apart from any story which it may be supposed to tell.

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.

A picture is finished when all trace of the means used to bring about the end has disappeared.