I want to get to the point where people say of my work, that man feels deeply.

It constantly remains a source of disappointment to me that my drawings are not yet what I want them to be. The difficulties are indeed numerous and great, and cannot be overcome at once. To make progress is a kind of miner’s work; it doesn’t advance as quickly as one would like, and as others also expect, but as one stands before such a task, the basic necessities are patience and faithfulness. In fact, I do not think much about the difficulties, because if one thought of them too much one would get stunned or disturbed.

Man is not on the earth solely for his own happiness. He is there to realize great things for humanity.

I see drawings and pictures in the poorest huts, in the dirtiest corner. And my mind is drawn toward these things by an irresistible force.

What preys on my mind is simply this one question: what am I good for, could I not be of service or use in some way?

Painters understand nature and love it, and teach us to see.

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