Art is making something out of nothing and selling it.

The work of art, just like any fragment of human life considered in its deepest meaning, seems to me devoid of value if it does not offer the hardness, the rigidity, the regularity, the luster on every interior and exterior facet, of the crystal.

All art is a revolt against man’s fate.

Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere.

A frenzied passion for art is a canker that devours everything else.