Painting demands an intelligent model.

It is the painting that makes me so happy these days.

Well, I dare not allow myself any illusions, and I am afraid it may never happen that Father and Mother will really appreciate my art. It is not their fault; we do not see the same things with the same eyes, or have the same thoughts raised in us by them. They will never be able to understand what painting is.

Since visiting the abatoirs of S. France I have stopped eating meat.

What is drawing? How does one get there? It's working one's way through an invisible iron wall that seems to stand between what one feels and what one can do. How can one get through that wall? - since hammering on it doesn't help at all. In my view, one must undermine the wall and grind through it slowly and patiently.

At times it is not easy for me to take up living again.

There is the same difference in a person before and after he is in love, as there is in an unlighted lamp and one that is burning.