Michelangelo

I am a poor man and of little worth, who is toiling in this art that God has given me to increase my life.

I am still the way I was in Florence: I do not think of death, nor of eating, nor of drinking.

I am still in great distress and travail, and have been for some time, on account of the Pope and the chapel.

I am a solitary man, who walks alone.

My joy is not in this world, but in the next.

I live in a state of continuous mental torture.

I cannot live without my chisel.

If I am worth anything, it is in my hands.

I am not a painter, but a sculptor.

I have no friends of any kind and I don't want any.

I am more sensitive to the opinions of others than anyone else I know.

I am a poor man, and I have always been poor.

I have spent all my life in this art, and I have never had any profit from it.

I have suffered more than any man ever suffered.

I would rather be a good man than a good artist.

I am never satisfied with what I do.

I am old and I am tired.

I have no time to eat, nor to sleep, nor to rest.

I am still a young man, and I have much to learn.

I am a man of stone, and I have a heart of stone.