Machines have come, art has fled, and I am far from thinking photography can help us.

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.

Ask yourself if I'm capable of contradictions, Draupadi.Some missions succeed only by their spectacular failure. - Krishn

Sinnes are not knowne till they bee acted.

A sanctity hangs about the sources of our being, whether physical, social, or imaginary.

You have to simply become aware of the movement of the mind, which begins this endless trouble.

I urge all who have not yet received these greatest of all blessings within the walls of the temple to do whatever may be necessary to qualify to receive them.

Forgiveness is nothing more and nothing less than an act of self-healing-an act of self-empowermen t.

A radical and transformative thought goes nowhere without the willingness to challenge convention.

Perhaps his tragedy is that he is the one normal writer left on earth and it is this that adds to his isolation and so to his sense of guilt.

But I can tell - let truth be told - That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is nought to see, So delicate his motions be.

I'm definitely post-something.