If instead of a figure you put the shadow only of a person, you have found an original starting point, that strangeness of which you have calculated.

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.

Be yourself. Don't worry about what other people are thinking of you, because they're probably feeling the same kind of scared, horrible feelings that everyone does.

Perhaps the ultimate test of a leader is not what you are able to do in the here and now - but instead what continues to grow long after you're gone

Keep the inspiration alive and reach for what you want

No one has tamed you and you haven't tamed anyone.Your'e the way my fox was. He was just a fox like a hundred thousand others. But I've made him my friend, and now he's the only fox in the world.

...morning is the soul's night.

Whoever is not able to sacrifice, has no talent for love.

It’s not fair. People claim to know you through the things you’ve done, and not by sitting down and listening to you speak for yourself.

Would you trust him with your life, Halt?" Gilan interrupted, and Halt looked up at him. "Yes," he said quietly. Gilan patted his shoulder once more. "Then trust him with his own," he said simply.

When the band begins to get a name for themselves, and the writers get assigned to bands, they'll hit somebody who just doesn't like that kind of music, or they love hip hop but hate guitar rock.

My coping mechanism with my dyslexia is to use wit and humor.