The sight of stars always sets me dreaming just as naively as those black dots on a map set me dreaming of towns and villages. Why should these points of light in the firmament, I wonder, be less accessible than the dark ones on the map of France? We take a train to go to Torascon or Roven and we take death to a star.

My opinion is that the best thing would be to work on till art lovers feel drawn toward it of their own accord, instead of having to praise or to explain it.

I myself am quite absorbed by the delicate yellow, delicate soft green, delicate violet of a ploughed and weeded piece of soil.

As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas and colors enough to paint the beautiful things I see.

The large majority of people are asleep and do not wish to wake up.

Painting demands an intelligent model.

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