I think when one has talent one finally breaks through; so don't pass up any opportunity to do some work.

I regard it as a waste of time to think only of selling: one forgets one's art and exaggerates one's value.

But as I see it, the most corrupt art is the sentimental the art of orange blossoms which make pale women swoon.

Paint the essential character of things.

Cover the canvas at the first go, then work at it until you see nothing more to add.

All the sorrow, all the bitterness, all the sadness, I forget them and ignore them in the joy of working.

I began to understand my sensations, to know what I wanted, at around the age of forty - but only vaguely.