No one is an artist unless he carries his picture in his head before painting it, and is sure of his method and composition.

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.

I see less and less... I need to avoid lateral light, which darkens my colors. Nevertheless, I always paint at the times of day most propitious for me, as long as my paint tubes and brushes are not mixed up... I will paint almost blind, as Beethoven composed completely deaf.

To see we must forget the name of the thing we are looking at.

As for myself, I met with as much success as I ever could have wanted. In other words, I was enthusiastically run-down by every critic of the period.

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

One day I am satisfied, the next day I find it all bad; still I hope that some day I will find some of them good.