Artists have a double relationship towards nature: they are her master and her slave at the same time. They are her slave in so far as they must work with means of this world so as to be understood; her master in so far as they subject these means to their higher goals and make them subservient to them.

Every man has enough power left to carry out that of which he is convinced.

In every artist there is a touch of audacity without which no talent is conceivable.

He who cannot draw on three thousand years is living from hand to mouth.

One alone does not help, but rather he who unites with many at the right moment.

If you want a wise answer, ask a reasonable question.

Does not man lack the force at the very point where he needs it most? And when he soars upward in joy, or sinks down in suffering, is not checked in both, is he not returned again to the dull, cold sphere of awareness, just when he was longing to lose himself in the fullness of the infinite.