“Literature expresses itself by abstractions, whereas painting, by means of drawing and colour, gives concrete shape to sensations and perceptions.”

Painting is damned difficult – you always think you’ve got it, but you haven’t.

I have not tried to reproduce nature; I have represented it.

I am beginning to consider myself stronger than all those around me, and you know that the good opinion I have of myself has only been reached after mature consideration.

With a painter’s temperament, all that’s needed are the means of expression sufficient to be intelligible to the wide public.

An art which isn’t based on feeling isn’t an art at all feeling is the principle, the beginning and the end; craft, objective, technique – all these are in the middle.

Pleasure must be found in study.

The approbation of others is a stimulus of which one must sometimes be wary. The feeling of one’s own strength makes one modest.

Painting from nature is not copying the object; it is realizing one’s sensations.

Light is a thing that cannot be reproduced, but must be represented by something else – by color.

All the theories mess you up inside.

I cannot attain the intensity that is unfolded before my senses. I have not the magnificent richness of colouring that animates nature.

Everything in nature is formed upon the sphere, the cone and the cylinder. One must learn to paint these simple figures and then one can do all that he may wish.

If I think, everything is lost.

I ask you to pray for me, for once age has overtaken us, we find consolation only in religion.

When I judge art, I take my painting and put it next to a God made object like a tree or flower. If it clashes, it is not art.

It took me 40 years to find out that painting is not sculpture.

At the end of the day, regardless of the color of the cast, we’re all doing the same thing in this business: trying to make a good film.

I never identified with anybody. I have always been very sensitive about my color, because everybody called me ‘yellow gal.’ I was caught in between both sides – nobody wanted me. I love that my audience is there, but I always feel as though I have to fend for myself.

I don’t want enemies. I want friends, and I want them in all shapes, sizes, and colors, and loving whoever they want to.

The ability to see reality in form, in color, in proportion, to be master of the movements of one’s own hand – that is what is necessary.

How can any one paint who cannot grade colors? How can any one write poetry who has not learnt to hear and see?

I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things I had no words for.

I wear green on Sunday because it’s my mom’s favorite color, but green goes pretty well on Sunday at the Masters, too.

Study a lifetime and you see different colors from the same jewel.