There is a desperate tendency to try to legislate artists, to try to lay down rules for their obligations to society. Just leave artists alone. If you are a true artist, you will have a very finely tuned moral mechanism.
If you practice for ten years, you may begin to please yourself, after 20 years you may become a performer and please the audience, after 30 years you may please even your guru, but you must practice for many more years before you finally become a true artist-then you may please even God.
Every true artist is at war with the world.
With the true artist, the social formula that he recommends is a matter of secondary importance; the source of his art, its animating spirit, is decisive.
Mother Nature is the true artist and our job as cooks is to allow her to shine.
The true artist regards his work as a means of talking with men [and women], of saying his say to himself and to others. It is not a question of pay.
An artist's career doesn't happen in the cycle of one week of news. An artist's career happens in a lifetime, and if you're a true artist you're willing to die for what you believe in.
The true artist is quite rational as well as imaginative and knows what he is doing; if he does not, his art suffers.
A true artist does not depend on radio for success. A true fan does not let radio determine what they support
If heaven gives me ten more years, or an extension of even five years, I shall surely become a true artist.
It is only the unimaginative who ever invents. The true artist is known by the use he makes of what he annexes.
A true priest is aware of the presence of the altar during every moment that he is conducting a service. It is exactly the same way that a true artist should react to the stage all the time he is in the theater. An actor who is incapable of this feeling will never be a true artist.
Most true artists care about music as a pure, passionate art form, but can get caught in the trap of the business. Which, sadly, has now become more important than the artist or even the music itself.
There's no doubt about it - gardeners are the only true artists these days.
The true artist plays mad with his soul, labors at the very lip of the volcano, but remembers and clings to his purpose, which is as strong as the dream. He is not someone possessed, like Cassandra, but a passionate, easily tempted explorer who fully intends to get home again, like Odysseus.
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