"Why don'tyou ever send your work to exhibitions?" I asked. "I should havethought you'd like to know what people thought about it. "

"Wouldyou?"

I cannotdescribe the unmeasurable contempt he put into the two words.

"Don't youwant fame? It's something that most artists haven't been indifferent to. "

"Children.How can you care for the opinion of the crowd, when you don't care twopence forthe opinion of the individual?"

"We're notall reasonable beings, " I laughed.

"Who makesfame? Critics, writers, stockbrokers, women. "

"Wouldn'tit give you a rather pleasing sensation to think of people you don’t know andhad never seen receiving emotions, subtle and passionate, from the work of yourhands? Everyone likes power. I can't imagine a more wonderful exercise of itthan to move the souls of men to pity or terror. "

"Melodrama."

"Why doyou mind if you paint well or badly?"

"I don't.I only want to paint what I see. "

"I wonderif I could write on a desert island, with the certainty that no eyes but minewould ever see what I had written. "

“为什么你不把自己的画送到展览会上去呢？”我问他说，“我想你会愿意听听别人的意见的。”

“你愿意听吗？”

他说这句话时那种鄙夷不屑劲儿我简直无法形容。

“你不想成名吗？大多数画家对这一点还是不能无动于衷的。”

“真幼稚。如果你不在乎某一个人对你的看法，一群人对你有什么意见又有什么关系？”

“我们并不是人人都是理性动物啊！”我笑着说。

“成名的是哪些人？是评论家、作家、证券经纪人、女人。”

“想到那些你从来不认识、从来没见过的人被你的画笔打动，或者泛起种种遐思，或者感情激荡，难道你不感到欣慰吗？每个人都喜爱权力。如果你能打动人们的灵魂，或者叫他们凄怆哀悯，或者叫他们惊惧恐慌，这不也是一种奇妙的行使权力的方法吗？”

“滑稽戏。”

“那么你为什么对于画得好或不好还是很介意呢？”

“我并不介意。我只不过想把我所见到的画下来。”

“如果我置身于一个荒岛上，确切地知道除了我自己的眼睛以外再没有别人能看到我写出来的东西，我很怀疑我还能不能写作下去。”