I used to find great difficulty in drawing feet.

The wall is silence, the grass is sleep, Tall trees of peace their vigil keep, And the Fairy of Dreams with moth-wings furled. Plays soft on her flute to the drowsy world.

There is something magical in seeing what you can do, what texture and tone and colour you can produce merely with a pen point and a bottle of ink.

Then clear on a flute of purest gold A sweet little fairy played. And wonderful fairy tales she told and marvelous music made.

I just had to plod along without having any teaching, which was a pity.

I should have been a much better artist if I could have studied more and amused myself less.

To know that we know what we know, and to know that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge.

Your body language continuously communicates for you, whether you are aware of it or not. Are your intended messages being well conveyed?

Space is the breath of art.

Religion will prove to the believer a comforter and a sure guide to the fountain of true happiness.

Chess, like other arts, must be practiced to be appreciated.

When I think about the songs I might record, I ask myself, 'Can I picture anybody I know back home sitting in their truck cranking this up?'

Do I believe in ghosts? I believe in the ghosts that haunt the human mind.

Keeping away for all evil deeds, cultivation of life by doing good deeds and purification of mind from mental impunities.

Perfect objectivity is always impossible, no matter who writes a person's biography.

If Creation were a crime, would not God be the prime suspect?