Trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle.

What spirit is so empty and blind, that it cannot recognize the fact that the foot is more noble than the shoe, and skin more beautiful than the garment with which it is clothed?

I live in sin, to kill myself I live; no longer my life my own, but sin's; my good is given to me by heaven, my evil by myself, by my free will, of which I am deprived.

I live and love in God's peculiar light.

What good I have comes from the pure air of your native Arezzo, and also because I sucked in chisels and hammers with my nurse's milk.

I saw the angel in the marble and I carved until I set him free.

The true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.

I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.

A man paints with his brains and not with his hands.