I Owe You The Truth In Painting,

Everything Vanishes, Falls Apart, Doesn't It? Nature Is Always The Same But Nothing In Her That Appears To Us Lasts. Our Art Must Render The Thrill Of Her Permanence, Along With Her Elements, The Appearance Of All Her Changes. It Must Give Us A Taste Of Her Eternity.

I Advance All Of My Canvas At One Time.

I Lack The Magnificent Richness Of Color That Animates Nature.

The Louvre Is The Book In Which We Learn To Read. We Must Not, However, Be Satisfied With Retaining The Beautiful Formulas Of Our Illustrious Predecessors. Let Us Go Forth To Study Beautiful Nature, Let Us Try To Free Our Mids From Them, Let Us Strive To Express Ourselves According To Our Personal Temperaments. Time And Reflection, Moreover, Little By Little Modify Our Vision, And At Last Comprehension Comes To Us.

The Landscape Thinks Itself In Me And I Am Its Consciousness.