An art which isn't based on feeling isn't an art at all.

Painting is damned difficult - you always think you've got it, but you haven't.

The Louvre is the book in which we learn to read. We must not, however, be satisfied with retaining the beautiful formulas of our illustrious predecessors. Let us go forth to study beautiful nature, let us try to free our mids from them, let us strive to express ourselves according to our personal temperaments. Time and reflection, moreover, little by little modify our vision, and at last comprehension comes to us.

Is art really the priesthood that demands the pure in heart who belong to it wholly?

I lack the magnificent richness of color that animates nature.

I must be more sensible and realize that at my age, illusions are hardly permitted and they will always destroy me.

Long live the sun which gives us such beautiful color.