The Contour Eludes Me.

Keep Good Company - That Is, Go To The Louvre.

I'd Like To Combine Melancholy And Sunshine... There's A Sadness In Provence Which No One Has Expressed... I'd Like To Put Reason In The Grass And Tears In The Sky, Like Poussin.

I Am More A Friend Of Art Than A Producer Of Painting.

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

The Louvre Is The Book In Which We Learn To Read. We Must Not, However, Be Satisfied With Retaining The Beautiful Formulas Of Our Illustrious Predecessors. Let Us Go Forth To Study Beautiful Nature, Let Us Try To Free Our Mids From Them, Let Us Strive To Express Ourselves According To Our Personal Temperaments. Time And Reflection, Moreover, Little By Little Modify Our Vision, And At Last Comprehension Comes To Us.