It is the eye of ignorance that assigns a fixed and unchangeable color to every object; beware of this stumbling block.

But I owe something to Vincent, and that is, in the consciousness of having been useful to him, the confirmation of my own original ideas about painting. And also, at difficult moments, the remembrance that one finds others unhappier than oneself.

Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.

One's state of mind is three-quarters of what counts, so it has to be carefully nurtured if you want to do something great and lasting.

Seek art and abstraction in nature by dreaming in the presence of it.

Oh yes! He loved yellow, did good Vincent...When the two of us were together in Arles, both of us insane, and constantly at war over beautiful colors, I adored red; where could I find a perfect vermilion?

A young man who is unable to commit a folly is already an old man.