Art ... is as much a source of happiness for the beginner as for the master. One forgets everything in one's work.

What am I? Nothing. What would I be? Everything.

They who see only what they wish to see in those around them are very fortunate.

Art ... is as much a source of happiness for the beginner as for the master. One forgets everything in one's work.

Art consists precisely in making us admire old stories, charming us with them eternally, as Nature charms with her eternal sun, her ancient earth, and her men built all on the same pattern, and all animated by the same feelings.

When one misses an opportunity one is apt to fancy that another will never present itself.

Life, that is Paris! Paris, that is life!