And love makes one calmer about many things, and in that way, one is more fit for one's work.

...to look at the stars always makes me dream, as simply as I dream over the black dots of a map representing towns and villages. Why, I ask myself, should the shining dots of the sky not be as accessible as the black dots on the map of France?

Paintings have a life of their own that derives from the painter's soul.

Rembrandt is so deeply mysterious that he says things for which there are no words in any language.

It is a pity that, as one gradually gains experience, one loses one's youth.

I am risking my life for my work, and half my reason has gone.

The emotions are sometimes so strong that I work without knowing it. The strokes come like speech.