I've never let one day go by without painting, or at least without drawing.

One morning, one of us ran out of the black, it was the birth of Impressionism.

An artist, under pain of oblivion, must have confidence in himself, and listen only to his real master: Nature.

There isn't a single person or landscape or subject which doesn't possess some interest, although it may not be immediately apparent. When a painter discovers this hidden treasure, other people are immediately struck by its beauty.

You come to nature with all her theories, and she knocks them all flat.

I have a predilection for painting that lends joyousness to a wall.

I look at a nude. There are myriads of tiny tints. I must find the ones that will make the flesh on my canvas live and quiver.