Cezanne, You See, Is A Sort Of

When You're Out Of Will Power You Call On Stubbornness, That's The Trick.

A Work Of Art Must Carry In Itself Its Complete Significance And Impose It Upon The Beholder Even Before He Can Identify The Subject-matter.

Truly, I'm Not Joking When I Thank My Lucky Stars For The Awful Operation I Had, Since It Has Made Me Young Again And Philosophical Which Means That I Don't Want To Fritter Away The New Lease On Life I've Been Given.

My Choice Of Colors Does Not Rest On Any Scientific Theory; It Is Based On Observation, On Feeling, On The Experience Of My Sensibility. Inspired By Certain Pages Of Delacroix, An Artist Like Signac Is Preoccupied With Complementary Colors, And The Theoretical Knowledge Of Them Will Lead Him To Use A Certain Tone In A Certain Place. But I Simply Try To Put Down Colors Which Render My Sensation.

When I Paint Green, It Doesn't Mean Grass; When I Paint Blue, It Doesn't Mean Sky.