the more I live, the more I regret how little i know
I'm not performing miracles, I'm using up and wasting a lot of paint.
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.
What could be said about me...a man to whom only his painting matters? And of course his garden and his flowers as well.
I get madder and madder on giving back what I feel.
I would advise young artists to paint as they can, as long as they can, without being afraid of painting badly.