It Is Not About Painting

I Must Be More Sensible And Realize That At My Age, Illusions Are Hardly Permitted And They Will Always Destroy Me.

Talks On Art Are Almost Useless. The Work Which Goes To Bring Progress In One's Own Subject Is Sufficient Compensation For The Incomprehension Of Imbeciles.

The Awareness Of Our Own Strength Makes Us Modest.

See How The Light Tenderly Love The Apricots, It Takes Them Over Completely, Enters Into Their Pulp, Light Them From All Sides! But It Is Miserly With The Peaches And Light Only One Side Of Them.

I Ask You To Pray For Me, For Once Age Has Overtaken Us, We Find Consolation Only In Religion.