“The more I think about it, the more I realize there is nothing more artistic than to love others.”

Art demands constant observation.

I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart.

There is no blue without yellow and without orange.

One must never let the fire go out in one’s soul, but keep it burning.

It is very necessary to work in the garden and see the flowers growing.

I put my heart and soul into my work, and I have lost my mind in the process.

There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.

In an artist’s life, death is perhaps not the most difficult thing.

I put my heart and soul into my work, and I have lost my mind in the process.

There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.

In an artist’s life, death is perhaps not the most difficult thing.

The only time I feel alive is when I’m painting.

If you end up falling in love with someone, it’s because of them. If you end up hating someone, it’s because of you.

I wish they would take me as I am.

I want to touch people with my art. I want them to say ‘he feels deeply, he feels tenderly’.

Success is sometimes the outcome of a whole string of failures.

We took away your art because we thought it would reveal your souls. Or to put it more finely, we did it to prove you had souls at all.

Charm is the great English blight. It does not exist outside these damp islands. It spots and kills anything it touches. It kills love; it kills art; I greatly fear, my dear Charles, it has killed you.

Sunlight is painting.

Giving comfort under affliction requires that penetration into the human mind, joined to that experience which knows how to soothe, how to reason, and how to ridicule; taking the utmost care never to apply those arts improperly.

History repeats itself, but the special call of an art which has passed away is never reproduced. It is as utterly gone out of the world as the song of a destroyed wild bird.

In the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths, our arts, our songs, we celebrate the nonbelongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks.

It is my belief no man ever understands quite his own artful dodges to escape from the grim shadow of self knowledge.

Imagination, not invention, is the supreme master of art as of life.