To a woman who knows her own mind men can only be a minor consideration.
Nothing is ever so good or so bad in reality as it is in the anticipation.
To live, to have so much ambition, to suffer, to cry, to fight and, at the end, forgetfulness ... as if I had never existed.
Let us love dogs; let us love only dogs! Man and cats are unworthy creatures.
I was born to be a remarkable woman; it matters little in what way or how. ... I shall be famous or I will die.
Art just consists in making us swallow the commonplaces by charming us eternally ...
Life, that is Paris! Paris, that is life!
I am the most interesting book of all.
When I die my death will be caused by indignation at the stupidity of human nature ...
What am I? Nothing. What would I be? Everything.
art consists precisely in making us admire old stories, charming us with them eternally, as Nature charms with her eternal sun, her ancient earth, and her men built all on the same pattern, and all animated by the same feelings ...
Art ... is as much a source of happiness for the beginner as for the master. One forgets everything in one's work ...
I long to see everything, to know everything, to learn everything!.
... I will never love, for I should never be loved as I desire to be loved.
Soul is as necessary in a painting as body.
Time is the most terrible, the most discouraging, the most unconquerable of all obstacles, and one that may exist when no other does.
They who see only what they wish to see in those around them are very fortunate.
When one misses an opportunity one is apt to fancy that another will never present itself.
one life would not suffice, mine especially. To touch everything and leave nothing after oneself! Ah! my God! I hope better than that. Ah! I am very cowardly, and under the blow of such a terror I am ready to believe in priests.
I want to live faster, faster, faster! ... I fear that this desire to live always at high pressure is the presage of a short existence. Who knows?
To say that my grief will be eternal would be ridiculous - nothing is eternal.
The expectation of an unpleasantness is more terrible than the thing itself.
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