A picture is nothing but a bridge between the soul of the artist and that of the spectator.
How can this world, which is so beautiful, include so much horror?
Experience has two things to teach. The first is that we must correct a great deal and the second, that we must not correct too much.
The artist who aims at perfection in everything achieves it in nothing.
Seeing artistically does not happen automatically. We must constantly develop our powers of observation.
The secret of not having worries, for me at least, is to have ideas.
We work not only to produce, but to give value to time.
Talent does whatever it wants to do. Genius does only what it can.
The first virtue of a painting is to be a feast for the eyes.
Even when we look at nature, our imagination constructs the picture.
If one considered life as a simple loan, one would perhaps be less exacting. We possess actually nothing; everything goes through us.
When a thing bores you, do not do it.
Nourish yourself with grand and austere ideas of beauty that feed the soul Seek solitude.
Mediocre people have an answer for everything and are astonished at nothing. They always want to have the air of knowing better than you what you are going to tell them; when, in their turn, they begin to speak, they repeat to you with the greatest confidence, as if dealing with their own property, the things that they have heard you say yourself at some other place. A capable and superior look is the natural accompaniment of this type of character.
What moves those of genius, what inspires their work is not new ideas, but their obsession with the idea that what has already been said is still not enough.
The source of genius is imagination alone, the refinement of the senses that sees what others do not see, or sees them differently.
One never paints violently enough.
Everything is a subject; the subject is yourself. It is within yourself that you must look and not around you... The greatest happiness is to reveal it to others, to study oneself, to paint oneself continually in [one's] work.
It is only possible to speak in the language and in the spirit of one's time.
[Photography is] in some ways false just because it is so exact.
The outcome of my days is always the same; an infinite desire for what one never gets; a void one cannot fill; an utter yearning to produce in all ways, to battle as much as possible against time that drags us along, and the distractions that throw a veil over our soul.
Cold exactitude is not art... The so-called consciousness of the majority of painters is only perfection applied to the art of boring. People like that, if they could, would work with the same minute attention on the back of their canvas.
If you are not skillful enough to sketch a man jumping out of a window in the time it takes him to fall from the fourth storey to the ground, you will never be able to produce great works.
What is real for me are the illusions I create with my paintings. Everything else is quicksand.
You increase your self-respect when you feel you've done everything you ought to have done, and if there is nothing else to enjoy, there remains that chief of pleasures, the feeling of being pleased with oneself. A man gets an immense amount of satisfaction from the knowledge of having done good work and of having made the best use of his day, and when I am in this state I find that I thoroughly enjoy my rest and even the mildest forms of recreation.
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