Eugene Delacroix Quotes
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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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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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Nature is a dictionary; one draws words from it.
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The first virtue of a painting is to be a feast for the eyes.
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What is real for me are the illusions I create with my paintings. Everything else is quicksand.
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One always has to spoil a picture a little bit, in order to finish it.
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To be understood a writer has to explain almost everything.
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The contour should come last, only a very experienced eye can place it rightly.
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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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What makes sovereign ugliness are our conventions.
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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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Painters who are not colorists produce illumination, not painting.
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One must learn to be grateful for one's own findings.
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A taste for simplicity cannot last for long.
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Always, at the back of your soul, there is something that says to you, 'Mortal, drawn from eternal life for a short time, think how precious these moments are.
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It is only possible to speak in the language and in the spirit of one's time.
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Commonplace people have an answer for everything and nothing ever surprises them. They try to look as though they knew what you were about to say better than you did yourself, and when it is their turn to speak, they repeat with great assurance something that they have heard other people say, as though it were their own invention.
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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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How can this world, which is so beautiful, include so much horror?