The rich man who gives, steals twice over. First he steals the money and then the hearts of men.

Death is pitch-dark, but colors are light. To be a painter, one must work with rays of light.

There is a battle that goes on between men and women. Many people call it love.

Some colors reconcile themselves to one another, others just clash.

Youth must go ahead and prosper. These young painters are all very talented people, but they all paint frescoes.

This kind of painting with its large frames is a bourgeois drawing-room art. It is an art dealer's art-and that came in after the civil wars following the French Revolution.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.