I Didn't Become An Impressionist. As Long

If Only The Weather Would Improve, There'd Be Hope Of Some Work, But Every Day Brings Rain.

I Say That Whoever Claims To Have Finished A Canvas Is Terribly Arrogant.

Colors Pursue Me Like A Constant Worry. They Even Worry Me In My Sleep.

I Do Have A Dream, A Tableau Of The Bathing Place Of La Grenouillère, For Which I've Done Some Bad Pochades (sketches), But It Is A Dream. Renoir, Who Have Just Spent A Couple Of Months Here, Also Wants To Paint This Subject.

I'm Very Happy, Very Delighted. I'm Setting To Like A Fighting Cockerel, For I'm Surrounded Here By All That I Love.