Camille Pissarro Quotes

I began to understand my sensations, to know what I wanted, at around the age of forty - but only vaguely.

Work at the same time on sky, water, branches, ground, keeping everything going on an equal basis ... Don't be afraid of putting on colour ... Paint generously and unhesitatingly, for it is best not to lose the first impression.

The whole world is beautiful, the art is in the seeing.

I sometimes have a horrible fear of turning up a canvas of mine. I'm always afraid of finding a monster in place of the precious jewels I thought I had put there!

I think when one has talent one finally breaks through; so don't pass up any opportunity to do some work.

We are all the subjects of impressions, and some of use seek to convey the impressions to others. In the art of communicating impressions lies the power of generalizing without losing that logical connection of parts to the whole which satisfies the mind.

When you do a thing with your whole soul and everything that is noble within you, you always find your counterpart.

At times I come across works of mine which are soundly done and really in my style, and at such moments I find great solace.

I remember that, although I was full of fervour, I didn't have the slightest inkling, even at forty, of the deeper side to the movement we were pursuing by instinct. It was in the air!

Cover the canvas at the first go, then work at it until you see nothing more to add.

Watercolour is not especially difficult, but I must warn you to steer clear of those pretty English watercolourists, so skilful and alas so weak, and so often too truthful.

The subject should be observed more for shape and color than for drawing ... precise drawing is dry and hampers the impression of the whole, it destroys all sensations.

Don't be afraid in nature: one must be bold, at the risk of having been deceived and making mistakes.

At fifty, that is in 1880, I formulated the idea of unity, without being able to render it. At sixty, I am beginning to see the possibility of rendering it.

All the sorrow, all the bitterness, all the sadness, I forget them and ignore them in the joy of working.

Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.

It does not astonish me that the critics in London relegate me to the lowest rank. Alas! I fear that they are only too justified!

Painting, art in general, enchants me. It is my life. What else matters? When you put all your soul into a work, all that is noble in you, you cannot fail to find a kindred soul who understands you, and you do not need a host of such spirits. Is not that all an artist should wish for?