The student who deceives himself into thinking that he is giving his life like an ascetic in the spirit of sacrifice for art, is the victim of a deplorable species of egotism.

The real artist has no idea that he is sacrificing himself for art. He does what he does for one reason and one reason only-he can't help doing it.

Just as the bird sings or the butterfly soars, because it is his natural characteristic, so the artist works.

I am a sacrifice to the Guru, who has totally cured me of the fatal disease of egotism. Glorious and great are the virtues of the Guru, who has eradicated evil, and instructed me in virtue.

The sincerity of the art worker must permeate the song as naturally as the green leaves break through the dead branches in springtime.

The real artist has no idea that he is sacrificing himself for art. He does what he does for one reason and one reason only-he can't help doing it.