There is time only to work slowly There is no time not to love

Painting is something that takes place among the colors.

Our task is to take this earth so deeply and wholly into ourselves that it will resurrect within our being.

And when suddenly the god stopped her and, with anguish in his cry, uttered the words: ‘He has turned round’ – she comprehended nothing and said softly: ‘Who?

Works of Art are of an infinite loneliness.

And these things that keep alive on departure know that you praise them; transient, they look to us, the most transient, to be their rescue. They want us to change them completely, in our invisible hearts, into -- O endlessly -- us! Whoever, finally, we may be.

Don't take my devils away, because my angels may flee too.