Eugene Delacroix Quotes
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Talent does whatever it wants to do. Genius does only what it can.
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A picture is nothing but a bridge between the soul of the artist and that of the spectator.
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I believe it safe to say that all progress must lead, not to further progress, but finally to the negation of progress, a return to the point of departure.
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I am carrying out my plan, so long formulated, of keeping a journal. What I most keenly wish is not to forget that I am writing for myself alone. Thus I shall always tell the truth, I hope, and thus I shall improve myself. These pages will reproach me for my changes of mind.
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Cold exactitude is not art; ingenious artifice, when it pleases or when it expresses, is art itself.
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They say that each generation inherits from those that have gone before; if this were so there would be no limit to man's improvements or to his power of reaching perfection. But he is very far from receiving intact that storehouse of knowledge which the centuries have piled up before him; he may perfect some inventions, but in others, he lags behind the originators, and a great many inventions have been lost entirely. What he gains on the one hand, he loses on the other.
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What makes sovereign ugliness are our conventions.
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Painters who are not colorists produce illumination, not painting.
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Perhaps the sketch of a work is so pleasing because everyone can finish it as he chooses.
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You increase your self-respect when you feel you've done everything you ought to have done, and if there is nothing else to enjoy, there remains that chief of pleasures, the feeling of being pleased with oneself. A man gets an immense amount of satisfaction from the knowledge of having done good work and of having made the best use of his day, and when I am in this state I find that I thoroughly enjoy my rest and even the mildest forms of recreation.
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As for the ridiculous fear of making things below one's potential abilities... No, there is the root of the evil. There is the hiding place of stupidity I must attack: vain mortal, you are limited by nothing.
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Finishing a painting demands a heart of steel: everything requires a decision, and I find difficulties where I least expect them... It is at such moments that one fully realizes one's own weaknesses.
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Do not be troubled for a language, cultivate your soul and she will show herself.
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What I have done cannot be taken from me.
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One must learn to be grateful for one's own findings.
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How can this world, which is so beautiful, include so much horror?
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Draughtsmen may be made, but colourists are born.
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The contour should come last, only a very experienced eye can place it rightly.
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The so-called conscientiousness of the majority of painters is only perfection applied to the art of boring.
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To be understood a writer has to explain almost everything.