Life is not complex. We are complex. Life is simple, and the simple thing is the right thing.

Now art should never try to be popular. The public should try to make itself artistic.

And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand, The hand that held the steel: For only blood can wipe out blood, And only tears can heal

What you really are is a Bunburyist. I was quite right in saying you were a Bunburyist. You are one of the most advanced Bunburyists I know.

Intuition is a strange instinct that tells a woman she is right, whether she is or not.

I am jealous of everything whose beauty does not die. I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way! If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it? It will mock me some day—mock me horribly!

I now see that sorrow, being the supreme emotion of which man is capable, is at once the type and test of all great art.