One can speak poetry just by arranging colors well, just as one can say comforting things in music.

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.

The uglier, older, meaner, iller, poorer I get, the more I wish to take my revenge by doing brilliant color, well arranged, resplendent.

The great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together. And great things are not something accidental, but must certainly be willed.

We spent our whole lives in unconsous excercise of the art of expressing our thoughts with the help of words

In an artist's life, death is perhaps not the most difficult thing.

If I succeed in putting some warmth and love into the work, then it will find friends. Carrying on working is the