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

It was at home I learned the little I know. Schools always appeared to me like a prison, and never could I make up my mind to stay there, not even for four hours a day, when the sunshine was inviting, the sea smooth, and when it was joy to run about the cliffs in the free air, or to paddle in the water.

The older I become the more I realize of that I have to work very hard to reproduce what I search: the instantaneous. The influence of the atmosphere on the things and the light scattered throughout.

It's on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.

Without the fog, London would not be a beautiful city. It is fog that gives it its magnificent amplitude...its regular and massive blocks become grandiose in that mysterious mantle.

Colors pursue me like a constant worry. They even worry me in my sleep.

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