My aim in life is to make pictures and drawings, as many and as well as I can; then, at the end of my life... looking back with love and tender regret, and thinking, 'Oh, the pictures I might have made!'

I am a man of passions, capable of and subject to doing more or less foolish things- which I happen to regret, more or less, afterwards.

I see drawings and pictures in the poorest huts, in the dirtiest corner. And my mind is drawn toward these things by an irresistible force.

I try more and more to be myself, caring relatively little whether people approve or disapprove.

Love always causes trouble, that's true, but in its favour, it energizes.

Conscience is a man's compass.

In trees, I see expression and soul