Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.

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?

I have always wanted a mistress who was fat, and I have never found one. To make a fool of me, they are always pregnant.

There are two sorts of beauty; one is the result of instinct, the other of study. A combination of the two, with the resulting modifications, brings with it a very complicated richness, which the art critic ought to try to discover.

And here in my isolation I can grow stronger. Poetry seems to come of itself, without effort, and I need only let myself dream a little while painting to suggest it.

Life is hardly more than a fraction of a second. Such a little time to prepare oneself for eternity!

I shut my eyes in order to see.