I Know Very Well That

The Realities Of Nature Surpass Our Most Ambitious Dreams.

The Work Of Art Is Already Within The Block Of Marble. I Just Chop Off Whatever Isn't Needed.

If The Artist Only Reproduces Superficial Features As Photography Does, If He Copies The Lineaments Of A Face Exactly, Without Reference To Character, He Deserves No Admiration. The Resemblance Which He Ought To Obtain Is That Of The Soul.

The Artist Is The Confidant Of Nature, Flowers Carry On Dialogues With Him Through The Graceful Bending Of Their Stems And The Harmoniously Tinted Nuances Of Their Blossoms, Every Flower Has A Cordial Word Which Nature Directs Towards Him.

The Delicate Droop Of The Petals Standing Out In Relief, Is Like The Eyelid Of A Child.