I work as diligently on my canvases as the laborers do in their fields.

No, no thought to the winnings. One loves because one loves.

In general, and most especially with artists, I pay as much attention to the man who does the work, as to the work itself.

If I did not succeed I still thought that what I had worked on would be continued. Not immediately. But there are others who believe in things that are true.

I began to paint again, even though I could barely hold the brush, but knowing exactly what I wanted to paint, I began three more large canvases... of large wheat fields under cloudy skies, and it did not take a great deal to express sadness and loneliness... I believe these paintings say what words cannot.

Doing little things well is a step toward doing big things better.

In the fullness of artistic life there is, and remains, and will always come back at times, that homesick longing for the truly ideal life that can never come true.