Occupation: Artist Birth: June 7, 1848 Death: May 8, 1903
If instead of a figure you put the shadow only of a person, you have found an original starting point, that strangeness of which you have calculated..
Life is merely a fraction of a second. An infinitely small amount of time to fulfill our desires, our dreams, our passions..
I shut my eyes in order to see..
When the physical organism breaks up, the soul survives. It then takes on another body..
Beware of luxury! Beware of acquiring the taste and need for it, under the pretext of providing for the morrow..
Color! What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams..
Happiness and work rose up together with the sun, radiant like it..
Let everything about you breathe the calm and peace of the soul..
Do not copy nature. Art is an abstraction. Rather, bring your art forth by dreaming in front of her and think more of creation..
If you see a tree as blue, then make it blue..
Follow the masters! But why should one follow them? The only reason they are masters is that they didn't follow anybody!.
Where do we come from? What are We? Where are we going?.
Thanks to our cinctures and corsets we have succeeded in making an artificial being out of woman. She is an anomaly, and Nature herself, obedient to ….
The missionary is no longer a man, a conscience. He is a corpse, in the hands of a confraternity, without family, without love, without any of the se….
I have come to an unalterable decision - to go and live forever in Polynesia. Then I can end my days in peace and freedom, without thoughts of tomorr….
Oh yes! he loved yellow, this good Vincent, this painter from Holland - those glimmers of sunlight rekindled his soul, that abhorred the fog, that ne….
A critic in my house sees some paintings. Greatly perturbed, he asks for my drawings. My drawings? Never! They are my letters, my secrets..
Life has no meaning unless one lives it with a will, at least to the limit of one's will. Virtue, good, evil are nothing but words, unless one takes ….
Slyly, banteringly, but also overbearingly, the critic - the one who does not swallow anything whole, who waits until posterity has consecrated it be….
Lacking many of the essential implements, it irritated me to be reduced to impotence in the face of artistic projects to which I had passionately giv….
The cyclone ends. The sun returns; the lofty coconut trees lift up their plumes again; man does likewise. The great anguish is over; joy has returned….