Ah! My dear friend painting is to us what the music of Berlioz and Wagner was before us - a consolatory art for sore hearts! And yet there are only a few like you and me who feel it!!!

I am not an adventurer by choice but by fate.

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.

I wish they would take me as I am.

For myself, I declare I don't know anything about it. But the sight of the stars always makes me dream.

In trees, I see expression and soul