I would like to paint the way a bird sings.

My life has been nothing but a failure.

I am very depressed and deeply disgusted with painting. It is really a continual torture.

Despite my extremely modest prices, dealers and art lovers are turning their backs on me. It is very depressing to see the lack of interest shown in an art object which has no market value.

The only merit I have is to have painted directly from nature with the aim of conveying my impressions in front of the most fugitive effects.

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.

All I did was to look at what the universe showed me, to let my brush bear witness to it.