A Puny Body Weakens The Soul.

The Landscape Thinks Itself In Me And I Am Its Consciousness.

Here On The Edge Of The River, The Motifs Are Very Plentiful, The Same Subject Seen From A Different Angle Gives A Subject For Study Of The Highest Interest And So Varied That I Think I Could Be Occupied For Months Without Changing My Place, Simply Bending A Little More To The Right Or Left.

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

All Pictures Painted Inside In The Studio Will Never Be As Good As The Things Done Outside.

You Must Think. The Eye Is Not Enough; It Needs To Think As Well.