Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.
Art is the most intense mode of individualism that the world has known.
Art is the lie that enables us to realize the truth.
Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.
The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.
Art is the stored honey of the human soul, gathered on wings of misery and travail.
Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.
In every work of art, the artist himself is present.
Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it.
The painter has the universe in his mind and hands.
Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.