The More I Live, The More I

Work Is Nearly Always A Torture. If I Could Find Something Else I Would Be Much Happier, Because I Could Use This Other Interest As A Form Of Relaxation. Now I Cannot Relax.

These Landscapes Of Water And Reflections Have Become An Obsession. It's Quite Beyond My Powers At My Age, And Yet I Want To Succeed In Expressing What I Feel.

I Get Madder And Madder On Giving Back What I Feel.

I've Spent So Long On Some Paintings That I No Longer Know What To Think Of Them, And I Am Definitely Getting Harder To Please; Nothing Satisfies Me.

I Am Enslaved To My Work, Always Wanting The Impossible, And Never, I Believe, Have I Been Less Favoured By The Endlessly Changeable Weather.