I am astonished at the high prices paid for works by painters who are dead, prices none of them could expect when they were alive. It is a kind of tulip trade, in which living painters suffer but do not profit.

If one has such an encounter it is to be expected it will bring him into conflict, especially conflict with himself, because one sometimes literally does not know what to do or what not to do. But is this struggle and even the mistakes one may make, not better, and do they not develop us more than if we keep systematically away from emotions?

It always strikes me, and it is very peculiar, that, whenever we see the image of indescribable and unutterable desolation—of loneliness, poverty, and misery, the end and extreme of things—the thought of God comes into one's mind.

Yellow is capable of charming God.

I am no friend of present-day Christianity, though its Founder was sublime.

The heart of man is very much like the sea, it has its storms, it has its tides and in its depths it has its pearls too

If one feels the need of something grand, something infinite, something that makes one feel aware of God, one need not go far to find it.