There are two indices of genuine art: it is inimitable and it is ineffable.

It took me twenty years to discover painting: twenty years looking at nature, and above all, going to the Louvre.

To my mind, a picture should be something pleasant, cheerful, and pretty, yes pretty! There are too many unpleasant things in life as it is without creating still more of them.

Art is about emotion; if art needs to be explained it is no longer art.

One morning, one of us ran out of the black, it was the birth of Impressionism.

When I've painted a woman's bottom so that I want to touch it, then [the painting] is finished.

Work lovingly done is the secret of all order and all happiness.

Why shouldn’t art be pretty? There are enough unpleasant things in the world.

One must from time to time attempt things that are beyond one's capacity.

Photography freed painting from a lot of tiresome chores, starting with family portraits.

Regularity, order, desire for perfection destroy art. Irregularity is the basis of all art.

Reality is never clear, said Boris. It's never final. You can always change it or see it a different way.

I believe the greatest successes you will ever attain are still waiting for you on the road ahead.

The true enjoyments must be spontaneous and compulsive and look to no remoter end.

The kingdom is where the King reigns. If He is reigning in my heart, then the Kingdom of Heaven has come to me.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001, dawned temperate and nearly cloudless in the eastern United States.

The only thing I ever learned was that some people are lucky and other people aren't and not even a graduate of the Harvard Business School can say why.

Aidan to Jude: What's wrong with running away if where you were didn't suit you? Doesn't it follow you're funning to something else? Something that does suit you?

You have to get beyond blaming others . . . give up your excuses . . . stand responsible for what you do . . . ultimately, ethics ends up an individual exercise.

While we are making up our minds as to when we shall begin. the opportunity is lost.

He moves his thumb in a slow circle over the back of my hand. It is meant to comfort me, but it frustrates me instead. I need to talk to him. I need to look at him.