Monet Is Only An Eye, But My

With A Painter's Temperament, All That's Needed Are The Means Of Expression Sufficient To Be Intelligible To The Wide Public.

All My Compatriots Are Asses Compared To Me.

I Am Not Altogether Displeased With The Shirt-front.

Fruits ... Like Having Their Portrait Painted. They Seem To Sit There And Ask Your Forgiveness For Fading. Their Thought Is Given Off With Their Perfumes. They Come With All Their Scents, They Speak Of The Fields They Have Left, The Rain Which Has Nourished Them, The Daybreaks They Have Seen.

Art First Of All Is Optical. That's Where The Material Of Our Art Is: In What Our Eyes Think.