To say of a picture, as is often said in its praise, that it shows great and earnest labour, is to say that it is incomplete and unfit for view.

You shouldn't say it is not good. You should say, you do not like it; and then, you know, you're perfectly safe.

We look at a painting to know the painter; it's his company we are after, not his skill.

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

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

As music is the poetry of sound, so is painting the poetry of sight and the subject-matter has nothing to do with harmony of sound or of color.

The masterpiece should appear as the flower to the painter - perfect in its bud as in its bloom - with no reason to explain its presence - no mission to fulfill - a joy to the artist, a delusion to the philanthropist - a puzzle to the botanist - an accident of sentiment and alliteration to the literary man.