Nothing is ever so good or so bad in reality as it is in the anticipation.

one life would not suffice, mine especially. To touch everything and leave nothing after oneself! Ah! my God! I hope better than that. Ah! I am very cowardly, and under the blow of such a terror I am ready to believe in priests.

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

To live, to have so much ambition, to suffer, to cry, to fight and, at the end, forgetfulness ... as if I had never existed.

Art just consists in making us swallow the commonplaces by charming us eternally.

... I will never love, for I should never be loved as I desire to be loved.

Soul is as necessary in a painting as body.