Come, Let’s Be Calm: No One Incapable

The Heart, Like The Stomach, Wants A Varied Diet.

[the Artist] Is Like A Pump; He Has Inside Him A Great Pipe That Reaches Down Into The Entrails Of Things, The Deepest Layers. He Sucks Up What Was Lying There Below, Dim And Unnoticed, And Brings It In Great Jets To The Sunlight.

I Love My Work With A Frenetic And Perverse Love, As An Ascetic Loves The Hair Shirt Which Scratches His Belly.

Talent Is A Long Patience, And Originality An Effort Of Will And Intense Observation.

She Would Have Liked Not To Be Alive, Or To Be Always Asleep.