Poor artist! You gave away part of your soul when you painted the picture which you are now trying to dispose of.

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.

I have nothing against respecting people who lived before, but we have no responsibility toward them.

'Swan, ' by Mary Oliver. Poems and prose. Reading from this book is as if visiting a very wise friend. There is wisdom and welcoming kindness on every page.

But if you don't enjoy doing something, you'll be miserable no matter how much money you make.

It's so important to experience what your customers are experiencing and listen to their suggestions.

I'm working full-time on my job and part time on my fortune. But it won't be long before I'm working full-time on my fortune. . . can you imagine what my life will look like?

With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, And every flower that sad embroidery wears.

Women are all so far Machiavellians that they are never either good or bad by halves; their passions are too strong, and their reason too weak, to do anything with moderation.

When I first got pregnant, I freaked out. Then I had to remind myself: I'm turning 30

Strange! I don't understand how it is that we can write mathematical expressions and calculate what the thing is going to do without being able to picture it.

I still frequent my parents' house. I go there to escape, back to the bedroom that I grew up in. Just to sit there and feel small.