The Lamps Are Burning And The Starry

Even This Artistic Life, Which We Know Is Not Real Life, Appears To Me To Be So Alive And So Vital That It Would Be A Form Ingratitude Not To Be Content With It.

One Must Spoil As Many Canvases As One Succeeds With.

Sometimes Art Seems To Be Something Very Sublime, And, As You Say, Something Sacred.

Painters Understand Nature And Love It, And Teach Us To See.

Someone Has A Great Fire In His Soul And Nobody Ever Comes To Warm Themselves At It, And Passers-by See Nothing But A Little Smoke At The Top Of The Chimney And Then Go On Their Way.