Claude Monet Quotes - Page 5

I let a good many mistakes show through when fixing my sensations. It will always be the same and this is what makes me despair.

I still don't know where I am going to sleep tomorrow.

I'm knocked out, I've never felt so physically and mentally exhausted, I'm quite stupid with it and long only for bed; but I am happy.

I'm working hard with more determination than ever. My success at the Salon led to my selling several paintings and since your absence I have made 800 francs; I hope, when I have contracts with more dealers, it will be better still.

I despise the opinion of the press and the so-called critics.

If only the weather would improve, there'd be hope of some work, but every day brings rain.

It's enough to drive you crazy, trying to depict the weather, the atmosphere, the ambience.

Pictures aren't made out of doctrines. Since the appearance of impressionism, the official salons, which used to be brown, have become blue, green, and red...But peppermint or chocolate, they are still confections.

I've done what I could as a painter and that seems to me to be sufficient. I don't want to be compared to the great masters of the past, and my painting is open to criticism; that's enough.

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've said it before and can only repeat that I owe everything to Boudin and I attribute my success to him. I came to be fascinated by his studies, the products of what I call instantaneity.

Despite my extremely modest prices, dealers and art lovers are turning their backs on me. It is very depressing to see the lack of interest shown in an art object which has no market value.

While adding the finishing touches to a painting might appear insignificant, it is much harder to do than one might suppose.

I'm getting so slow at my work it makes me despair, but... I'm increasingly obsessed by the need to render what I experience, and I'm praying that I'll have a few more good years left to me.

One is too taken up with all that one sees and hears in Paris, however strong one is, and what I do here [in Etretat] will at least have the merit of being unlike anyone else, at least I believe so, because it will simply be the expression of what I, and only I, have felt.

Despite my exhaustion I have a devil of a time getting to sleep because of the rats above my bed and a pig who lives beneath my room.

I insist upon 'doing it alone'... I have always worked better alone and from my own impressions.

No, I'm not a great painter. Neither am I a great poet.

I will bring lots of studies back with me so I can work on some big things at home.

The creditors are proving impossible to deal with and short of a sudden appearance on the scene of wealthy art patrons, we are going to be turned out of this dear little house where I led a simple life and was able to work so well. I do not know what will become of us.

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.

I've been working so hard that I'm exhausted... I feel I won't be able to do without a few weeks' rest, so I'm going off to see the sea.

It seems to me that when I see nature I see it ready-made, completely written - but then, try to do it!

I would love to do orange and lemon trees silhouetted against the blue sea, but I cannot find them the way I want them.

What is it that's taken hold of me, for me to carry on like this in relentless pursuit of something beyond my powers?