A man paints with his brains and not with his hands.
I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.
Painters are not in any way unsociable through pride, but either because they find few pursuits equal to painting, or in order not to corrupt themselves with the useless conversation of idle people, and debase the intellect from the lofty imaginations in which they are always absorbed.
Genius is infinite painstaking.
There is no greater harm than that of time wasted.
No one has mastery, Before he is at the end, Of his art and his life.