Don't be an art critic. Paint. There lies salvation.
Tell me, do you think I'm going mad? I sometimes wonder, you know.
Painting is founded on the heart controlled by the head.
I could paint for a hundred years, a thousand years without stopping and I would still feel as though I knew nothing.
A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art.
Everything vanishes, falls apart, doesn't it? Nature is always the same but nothing in her that appears to us lasts. Our art must render the thrill of her permanence, along with her elements, the appearance of all her changes. It must give us a taste of her Eternity.