My sketchbook is a witness of what I am experiencing, scribbling things whenever they happen.

But for one's health as you say, it is very necessary to work in the garden and see the flowers growing.

What lives in art and is eternally living, is first of all the painter and then the painting.

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.

I try more and more to be myself, caring relatively little whether people approve or disapprove.

Love always brings difficulties, that is true, but the good side of it is that it gives energy.

Let me stop there, but my God, how beautiful Shakespeare is, who else is as mysterious as he is; his language and method are like a brush trembling with excitement and ecstasy. But one must learn to read, just as one must learn to see and learn to live.