I'd like to write the way I do my paintings, that is, as fantasy takes me, as the moon dictates.

The cyclone ends. The sun returns; the lofty coconut trees lift up their plumes again; man does likewise. The great anguish is over; joy has returned; the sea smiles like a child.

I shut my eyes in order to see.

Color! What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams.

I have come to an unalterable decision - to go and live forever in Polynesia. Then I can end my days in peace and freedom, without thoughts of tomorrow and this eternal struggle against idiots.

Color which, like music, is a matter of vibrations, reaches what is most general and therefore most indefinable in nature: its inner power.

Art is either revolution or plagiarism

We never really know what stupidity is until we have experimented on ourselves.

Oh yes! he loved yellow, this good Vincent, this painter from Holland - those glimmers of sunlight rekindled his soul, that abhorred the fog, that needed the warmth.

Life is hardly more than a fraction of a second. Such a little time to prepare oneself for eternity!

Take care not to step on the foot of a learned idiot. His bite is incurable.

The man raised his glass, 'To you!'Can't you think of a wittier t

A couple of them were school beauty-queen pretty while a few were that more real-looking type. A realer kind of pretty.

I got called back into the Navy during the Korean War.

My strength has not equaled my mad ambition. I have remained obscure; I have done worse -- I have touched success, and allowed it to escape me.

Content and technology are strange bed fellows. We are joined together. Sometimes we misunderstand each other. But isn't that after all the definition of marriage?

Hope is a dream deferred.

I've always been a workhorse.

My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar

"Chocolate - The Consuming Passion" was written for the Chocolate Elite - the select millions who like chocolate in all its infinite variety, using 'like' as in 'I like to breathe.'

The true story...is the realization that no time in your life is ever perfect, that even the best memories have cracks you might not see.