I remember that at one time I always made a drawing before going to bed!! - Of myself I mean - though I finally destroyed most of them.

The explanation is quite simple. I wished to be near my mother.

An artist is not paid for his labor but for his vision.

If other people are going to talk, conversation becomes impossible.

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

The world is divided into two classes - invalids and nurses.

Nature is usually wrong.