There Is No Such Thing

The Dance Instills In You Something That Sets You Apart. Something Heroic And Remote.

And Even This Heart Of Mine Has Something Artificial. The Dancers Have Sewn It Into A Bag Of Pink Satin, Pink Satin Slightly Faded, Like Their Dancing Shoes.

People Call Me The Painter Of Dancing Girls. It Has Never Occurred To Them That My Chief Interest In Dancers Lies In Rendering Movement And Painting Pretty Clothes.

I Feel As A Horse Must Feel When The Beautiful Cup Is Given To The Jockey.

The Artist Does Not Draw What He Sees, But What He Has To Make Others See.