Art arises when the secret vision of the artist and the manifestation of nature agree to find new shapes.

The mountain veiled in mist is not a hill; an oak tree in the rain is not a weeping willow.

That day I behaved like a good artist, one whose job is to build rather than break.

To any artist, worthy of the name, all in nature is beautiful, because his eyes, fearlessly accepting all exterior truth, read there, as in an open book, all the inner truth.

The character of the artist doesn't enter into the nature of the art.

ARTIST / Paint clouds that really rain / And noisy, running streams, / Or birds that can take flight / And sing beyond your dreams, / Or sculpt a lovely nude / That wakes to your embrace . . . / If not, then praise the Artist / Who made the human race.