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.

To paint is not to copy the object slavishly, it is to grasp a harmony among many relationships.

I paint as if I were Rothschild.

Long live the sun which gives us such beautiful color.

The painter must enclose himself within his work; he must respond not with words, but with paintings.

Everything is about to disappear. You've got to hurry up if you still want to see things.

There is no model, there is only color.