Color is my day-long obsession, joy and torment. To such an extent indeed that one day, finding myself at the deathbed of a woman who had been and still was very dear to me, I caught myself in the act of focusing on her temples and automatically analyzing the succession of appropriately graded colors which death was imposing on her motionless face.

It is better to have done something than to have been someone.

The richness I achieve comes from nature, the source of my inspiration.

The Thames was all gold. God it was beautiful, so fine that I began working a frenzy, following the sun and its reflections on the water.

Most people think I paint fast. I paint very slowly.

My life has been nothing but a failure.

Nothing in the whole world is of interest to me but my painting and my flowers.