It’s not an environment an artist would ever choose to work in. The only advantage it has is that you must do it, and you can’t procrastinate.
The test of a work of art is, in the end, our affection for it, not our ability to explain why it is good.
I’m distrustful in delegating authority and my distrust is usually well-founded. I especially don’t trust people who don’t write things down. With those who do write things down, I’m very interested in what they write things in. If it’s one of those chic little Fifth Avenue notebooks with those expensive gold pencil I’m more suspicion than ever.
Pratically everything I read about me is grotesquely wrong… I’m not a recluse. I lead a relatively normal life, I think. But this stuff has been written and rewritten so often it takes on a life of its own.
No reviewer has ever illuminated any aspect of my work for me.