The sadness will last forever.

What preys on my mind is simply this one question: what am I good for, could I not be of service or use in some way?

We are surrounded by poetry on all sides.

In spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing.

When I have a terrible need of - shall I say the word - religion. Then I go out and paint the stars.

Love always brings difficulties, that is true, but the good side of it is that it gives energy.

At present I absolutely want to paint a starry sky. It often seems to me that night is still more richly coloured than the day; having hues of the most intense violets, blues and greens. If only you pay attention to it you will see that certain stars are lemon-yellow, others pink or a green, blue and forget-me-not brilliance. And without my expatiating on this theme it is obvious that putting little white dots on the blue-black is not enough to paint a starry sky.