There are two men inside the artist, the poet and the craftsman. One is born a poet. One becomes a craftsman.
The truth is on the march and nothing will stop it.
The fate of animals is of greater importance to me than the fear of appearing ridiculous; it is indissolubly connected with the fate of men.
The thought is a deed. Of all deeds she fertilizes the world most.
Perfection is such a nuisance that I often regret having cured myself of using tobacco.
The artist is nothing without the gift, but the gift is nothing without work.
One forges one’s style on the terrible anvil of daily deadlines.
If you shut up truth, and bury it underground, it will but grow.
In my view you cannot claim to have seen something until you have photographed it.
If I cannot overwhelm with my quality, I will overwhelm with my quantity.