“But what an eye Monet has, the most prodigious eye since painting began! I raise my hat to him. As for Courbet, he already had the image in his eye, ready-made. Monet used to visit him, you know, in his early days... But a touch of green, believe me, is enough to give us a landscape, just as a flesh tone will translate a face for us..”

"The Crime and the Punishment" (p. 46)
posthumous quotes, Degas: An Intimate Portrait' (1927)

Source: 1969 - 1980, In: "Ellsworth Kelly: Works on Paper," 1987, p. 26 : 'Notes from 1969'

Source: Generation Loss (2007), Ch. 1

Source: City of Glass

Leningrad.
Song lyrics, Storm Front (1989)

Ch 29
A Canticle for Leibowitz (1959), Fiat Voluntas Tua
Context: He received the Wafer from her hand. She replaced the lid of the ciborium and set the vessel in a more protected spot under a jutting rock. She used no conventional gestures, but the reverence with which she had handled it convinced him of one thing: she sensed the Presence under the veils. She who could not yet use words nor understand them, had done what she had as if by direct instruction, in response to his attempt at conditional baptism. He tried to refocus his eyes to get another look at the face of this being, who by gestures alone had said to him: I do not need your first Sacrament, Man, but I am worthy to convey to you this Sacrament of Life. Now he knew what she was, and he sobbed faintly when he could not again force his eyes to focus on those cool, green, and untroubled eyes of one born free.

Source: Shadow Kiss

Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction (1942), It Must Be Abstract
Context: p>He is and may be but oh! He is, he is,
This foundling of the infected past, so bright,
So moving in the manner of his hand. Yet look not at his colored eyes. Give him
No names. Dismiss him from your images.
The hot of him is purest in the heart. </p

Ch 29
A Canticle for Leibowitz (1959), Fiat Voluntas Tua
Context: The image of those cool green eyes lingered with him as long as life. He did not ask why God would choose to raise up a creature of primal innocence from the shoulder of Mrs. Grales, or why God gave to it the preternatural gifts of Eden — these gifts which Man had been trying to seize by brute force again from Heaven since first he lost them. He had seen primal innocence in those eyes, and a promise of resurrection. One glimpse had been a bounty, and he wept in gratitude. Afterwards he lay with his face in the wet dirt and waited.
Nothing else ever came — nothing that he saw, or felt, or heard.