“Beauty plus pity-that is the closest we can get to a definition of art. Where there is beauty there is pity for the simple reason that beauty must die: beauty always dies, the manner dies with the matter, the world dies with the individual.”

“Everything in the world is beautiful, but Man only recognizes beauty if he sees it either seldom or from afar. Listen, today we are gods! Our blue shadows are enormous! We move in a gigantic, joyful world!”

“The isms go, the ist dies, art remains”

“The contemplation of beauty, whether it be a uniquely tinted sunset, a radiant face, or a work of art, makes us glance back unwittingly at our personal past and juxtapose ourselves and our inner being with the utterly unattainable beauty revealed to us.”

“What can be sadder than a discouraged artist dying not from his own commonplace maladies, but from the cancer of oblivion?”

“Don't touch me; I'll die if you touch me.”

“Was she really beautiful? Was she at least what they call attractive? She was exasperation, she was torture.”