“If I were an opera singer, I"d have sung you an aria. If I were an artist, I would have painted your portrait. But cooking is what I'm best at.”

“Jeanne, I fell asleep among the paintings, where I could sit for many days worshipping your portrait. I fell in love with your portrait, Jeanne, because it will never change. I have such a fear of seeing you grow old, Jeanne, I fell in love with an unchanging you that will never be taken away from me. I was wishing you would die, so that no one could take you away from me, and I would love the painting of you as you would look eternally.”

“Never would I have a man saying what or who were best for me, and that were all there were to it.”

“Rembrandt painted portraits, The Karate Kid painted fences, and I paint my toenails. But I’m not a snob, I still consider those other two guys to be artists.
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“I often paint self-portraits for it is I that know myself best-Freida Kahlo.”

“You are beautiful, sweetheart. All I did was draw what I saw." "No," Meghann said, awed by the beauty in the painting. "You painted what you made. I was prettybefore you transformed me… nothing like that." She touched the vibrant, glowing face of the portrait. "You were always beautiful," Simon told her. "It wasn't transformation that enhanced your beauty." "It was love," Meghann said softly.”