An artist should create beautiful things, but should put nothing of his own life into them.

When critics disagree the artist is in accord with himself.

Good artists exist simply in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are.

...he is one with the artist who knows that by the inevitable law of self-perfection, the poet must sing, and the sculptor think in bronze, and the painter make the world a mirror for his moods, as surely and as certainly as the hawthorn must blossom in spring, and the corn turn to gold at harvest-time, and the moon in her ordered wanderings change from shield to sickle, and from sickle to shield