What Is One To Think Of Those

Everything Is About To Disappear. You've Got To Hurry Up If You Still Want To See Things.

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

My Nervous System Is Very Much Weakened - Nothing But Painting In Oil Can Keep Me Going.

An Optical Impression Is Produced On Our Organs Of Sight Which Makes Us Classify As Light, Half-tone Or Quartertone, The Surfaces Represented By Colour Sensations. So That Light Does Not Exist For The Painter.

The World Doesn't Understand Me And I Don't Understand The World, That's Why I've Withdrawn From It.