I get madder and madder on giving back what I feel.

For me, the subject is of secondary importance: I want to convey what is alive between me and the subject.

I've done what I could as a painter and that seems to me to be sufficient. I don't want to be compared to the great masters of the past, and my painting is open to criticism; that's enough.

My work is always better when I am alone and follow my own impressions.

I want the unobtainable. Other artists paint a bridge, a house, a boat, and that's the end. They are finished. I want to paint the air which surrounds the bridge, the house, the boat, the beauty of the air in which these objects are located, and that is nothing short of impossible.

To have gone to all this trouble to get to this is just too stupid! Outside there's brilliant sunshine but I don't feel up to looking at it.

All of a sudden I had the revelation of how enchanting my pond was.