When you start with a portrait and search for a pure form, a clear volume, through successive eliminations, you arrive inevitably at the egg. Likewise, starting with the egg and following the same process in reverse, one finishes with the portrait.
They ought to put out the eyes of painters as they do goldfinches in order that they can sing better.
He can who thinks he can, and he can't who thinks he can't. This is an inexorable, indisputable law.
We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth, at least the truth that is given to us to understand.