Right now a moment of time is fleeting by! Capture its reality in paint! To do that we must put all else out of our minds. We must become that moment, make ourselves a sensitive recording plate...Give the image of what we actually see, forgetting everything that has been seen before our time.

My nervous system is enfeebled, only work in oils can sustain me.

It's so fine and yet so terrible to stand in front of a blank canvas.

Is art really the priesthood that demands the pure in heart who belong to it wholly?

To paint is not to copy the object slavishly, it is to grasp a harmony among many relationships.

I want to die painting.

Everything vanishes, falls apart, doesn't it? Nature is always the same but nothing in her that appears to us lasts. Our art must render the thrill of her permanence, along with her elements, the appearance of all her changes. It must give us a taste of her Eternity.