I'm In Fine Fettle And Fired With

I Think Only Of My Painting, And If I Were To Drop It, I Think I'd Go Crazy.

I've Only Myself To Blame For It, My Impotence Most Of All And My Weakness. If I Do Any Good Work Now It Will Be Only By Chance.

I Do What I Can To Convey What I Experience Before Nature And Most Often, In Order To Succeed In Conveying What I Feel, I Totally Forget The Most Elementary Rules Of Painting, If They Exist That Is.

Nothing In The Whole World Is Of Interest To Me But My Painting And My Flowers.

The Thames Was All Gold. God It Was Beautiful, So Fine That I Began Working A Frenzy, Following The Sun And Its Reflections On The Water.