Color is the keyboard. The eye is the hammer. The soul is the piano, with its many strings.
To create a work of art is to create the world.
Every artist, as child of his age, is impelled to express the spirit of his age.
The eyes are hammers.
Everything that is dead quivers. Not only the things of poetry, stars, moon, wood, flowers, but even a white trouser button glittering out of a puddle in the street... Everything has a secret soul, which is silent more often than it speaks.
The sensations of colors on the palette can be spiritual experiences.