Vincent Van Gogh Quotes
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I believe it is one's duty to paint the rich and magnificent aspects of nature. We need gaiety and happiness, hope and love.
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Just slap anything on when you see a blank canvas staring you in the face like some imbecile. You don't know how paralyzing that is, that stare of a blank canvas is, which says to the painter, ‘You can't do a thing’. The canvas has an idiotic stare and mesmerizes some painters so much that they turn into idiots themselves. Many painters are afraid in front of the blank canvas, but the blank canvas is afraid of the real, passionate painter who dares and who has broken the spell of `you can't' once and for all.
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Van Gogh was so under appreciated in his time, he sold only one of his 900 paintings while alive. Posthumously, he became one of the most famous artists of all time and his work is now considered priceless. Oh the irony.
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As practice makes perfect, I cannot but make progress; each drawing one makes, each study one paints, is a step forward.
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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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The more I think about it, the more I realize there is nothing more artistic than to love others.
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I use color in a completely arbitrary way in order to express myself powerfully.
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To do good work one must eat well, be well housed, have one's fling from time to time, smoke one's pipe, and drink one's coffee in peace
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I want to paint what I feel, and feel what I paint.
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How rich art is, if one can only remember what one has seen, one is never empty of thoughts or truly lonely, never alone.
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The sunflower is mine, in a way.
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I myself am quite absorbed by the delicate yellow, delicate soft green, delicate violet of a ploughed and weeded piece of soil.
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So let us go forward quietly, each on his own path, forever making for the light.
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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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What preys on my mind is simply this one question: what am I good for, could I not be of service or use in some way?
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Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me.
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If one feels the need of something grand, something infinite, something that makes one feel aware of God, one need not go far to find it.
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The diseases that we civilized people labor under most are melancholy and pessimism.
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If I succeed in putting some warmth and love into the work, then it will find friends. Carrying on working is the
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Occasionally, in times of worry, I've longed to be stylish, but on second thought I say no-just let me be myself-and express rough, yet true things with rough workmanship.
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The cypresses are always occupying my thoughts.
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It may be true that there is no God here, but there must be one not far off, and at such a moment one feels His presence; which comes to the same as saying (and I readily give this sincere profession of faith): I believe in God, and that it is His wi
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If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning.
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But after all I find in my work an echo of what struck me. I see that nature has told me something, has spoken to me, and that I have put it down in shorthand. In my shorthand there may be words that cannot be deciphered. There may be mistakes or gap