Vincent Van Gogh Quotes
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I've just kept on ceaselessly painting in order to learn painting.
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I see drawings and pictures in the poorest huts, in the dirtiest corner. And my mind is drawn toward these things by an irresistible force.
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For loneliness, worries, difficulties, the unsatisfied need for kindness and sympathy - that is what is hard to bear.
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Painting it was hard graft... in addition red, yellow, brown ochre, black, terra sienna, bistre, and the result is a red-brown that varies from bistre to deep wine-red and to pale, blond reddish.
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I can't work without a model. I won't say I turn my back on nature ruthlessly in order to turn a study into a picture, arranging the colors, enlarging and simplifying; but in the matter of form I am too afraid of departing from the possible and the true.
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I am not strictly speaking mad, for my mind is absolutely normal in the intervals, and even more so than before. But during the attacks it is terrible - and then I lose consciousness of everything. But that spurs me on to work and to seriousness, as a miner who is always in danger makes haste in what he does.
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Art is to console those who are broken by life.
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Yellow is capable of charming God.
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The great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of small things brought together. And great things are not something accidental, but must certainly be willed.
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I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart.
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I shouldn't precisely have chosen madness if there had been any choice, but once such a thing has taken hold of you, you can't very well get out of it.
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Ah, Manet has come very, very close to it and Courbet - the marrying of form and colour.
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Do not quench your inspiration and your imagination; do not become the slave of your model.
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In the end we shall have had enough of cynicism, skepticism and humbug, and we shall want to live more musically.
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There was a sentence in your letter that struck me, “I wish I were far away from everything, I am the cause of all, and bring only sorrow to everybody, I alone have brought all this misery on myself and others.” These words struck me because that same feeling, just the same, not more nor less, is also on my conscience.
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In spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing.
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We are having wind and rain here, and I am very glad not to be alone. I work from memory on bad days, and that would not do if I were alone.
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Ah! Portraiture, portraiture with the thought, the soul of the model in it, that is what I think must come.
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In my view, I am often immensely rich, not in money, but (although just now perhaps not all the time) rich because I have found my metier, something I can devote myself to heart and soul and that gives inspiration and meaning to my life.
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And love makes one calmer about many things, and in that way, one is more fit for one's work.
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It is difficult to know oneself, but it isn't easy to paint oneself either.
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I began to paint again, even though I could barely hold the brush, but knowing exactly what I wanted to paint, I began three more large canvases... of large wheat fields under cloudy skies, and it did not take a great deal to express sadness and loneliness... I believe these paintings say what words cannot.
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For me work is an absolute necessity, indeed I can't really drag it out, I take no more pleasure in anything than in work, that's to say, pleasure in other things stops immediately and I become melancholy if I can't get on with the work.
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I am a man of passions, capable of and subject to doing more or less foolish things- which I happen to regret, more or less, afterwards.