A Puny Body Weakens The Soul.

Tell Me, Do You Think I'm Going Mad? I Sometimes Wonder, You Know.

My Nervous System Is Enfeebled, Only Work In Oils Can Sustain 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.

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

I Owe You The Truth In Painting, And I Will Tell It To You.