“I know of no greater tribute to the compelling sensuous loveliness of Portinari’s art than the annihilation of the reasoning and critical faculties of the mind which, I believe, all undergo on seeing it. Color, and all that that in terms of harmony and dissonance and light and dark involves, is there; and all that light and shade and color make: a world of plain and mountains; and living beings, scarecrows, skills; and depths of space… let those of us who have seen his paintings...be content with how art has moved us instantly to felt response, to sudden cold as though the heart so touched had stopped, to unexpected breathlessness.”