One does not substitute oneself for the past, one merely adds to it a new link.

Here, on the river's verge, I could be busy for months without changing my place, simply leaning a little more to right or left.

Fruits ... like having their portrait painted. They seem to sit there and ask your forgiveness for fading. Their thought is given off with their perfumes. They come with all their scents, they speak of the fields they have left, the rain which has nourished them, the daybreaks they have seen.

With a painter's temperament, all that's needed are the means of expression sufficient to be intelligible to the wide public.

Don't be an art critic. Paint. There lies salvation.

A thousand painters ought to be killed yearly. Say what you like: I'm every inch a painter.

Pure drawing is an abstraction.