I already have a wife who is too much for me.. she is my art, and my works are my children.

Dear to me is sleep: still more, being made of stone, While pain and guilt still linger here below, Blindness and numbness--these please me alone; Then do not wake me, keep your voices low.

The best artist has that thought alone Which is contained within the marble shell; The sculptor's hand can only break the spell To free the figures slumbering in the stone.

I created a vision of David in my mind and simply carved away everything that was not David.

No thought is born in me that does not bear the image of death.

A man paints with his brains and not with his hands.

A great sculpture can roll down a hill without breaking.