The artist discards all theories, both his own and those of others. He forgets everything when he is in front of his canvas.
The conscience of an artist worthy of the name is like an incurable disease which causes him endless torment but occasionally fills him with silent joy.
As an artist, you're pretty sheltered backstage. You often don't know what's going on out there.
The aim of every authentic artist is not to conform to the history of art, but to release himself from it in order to replace it with his own history.
Arguably, no artist grows up: If he sheds the perceptions of childhood, he ceases being an artist.
Divine fires do not blaze each day, but an artist functions in their afterglow hoping for their recurrence.
I mean I appreciate fan mail and that the people like what I am doing but I can't answer it. If I would answer 25 letters a day I would be just a guy answering mail and not an artist anymore.
I've always seen it as the role of an artist to drag his inside out, give the audience all you've got. Writers, actors, singers, all good artists do the same. It isn't supposed to be easy.
Being an artist is dragging your innermost feelings out, giving a piece of yourself, no matter in which art form, in which medium.
It is the artist's business to create sunshine when the sun fails.
Inside you there's an artist you don't know about. He's not interested in how things look different in moonlight.
The artist must create a spark before he can make a fire and before art is born, the artist must be ready to be consumed by the fire of his own creation.
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.
To the artist there is never anything ugly in nature.
The artist is the confidant of nature, flowers carry on dialogues with him through the graceful bending of their stems and the harmoniously tinted nuances of their blossoms. Every flower has a cordial word which nature directs towards him.