A weaver who has to direct and to interweave a great many little threads has no time to philosophize about it, but rather he is so absorbed in his work that he doesn't think but acts, and he feels how things must go more than he can explain it.

If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.

How can I be useful, of what service can I be? There is something inside me, what can it be?

Love is eternal, the aspect may change, but not the essence. 


But you people do not understand me, and I am afraid you never will.

When I have a terrible need of - shall I say the word - religion. Then I go out and paint the stars.

Painting is a faith, and it imposes the duty to disregard public opinion.