The richness of the world, all artificial pleasures, have the taste of sickness and give off a smell of death in the face of certain spiritual posses… - Georges Rouault

I am a believer and a conformist. Anyone can revolt; it is more difficult silently to obey our own interior promptings, and to spend our lives finding sincere and fitting means of expression for our temperaments and our gifts — if we have any. I do not say "neither God, nor Master," only in the end to substitute myself for the God I have excommunicated..."

Nothing is old, nothing is new, save the light of grace underneath which beats a human heart. The way of feeling, of understanding, of loving; the way of seeing the country, the faces that your father saw, that your mother knew. The rest is chimerical..."

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 …