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Danh ngôn của Claude Monet (Sứ mệnh: 5)

I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.
People discuss my art and pretend to understand as if it were necessary to understand, when it's simply necessary to love.
Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.
My life has been nothing but a failure.
I am following Nature without being able to grasp her, I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.
Color is my day-long obsession, joy and torment.
Eventually, my eyes were opened, and I really understood nature. I learned to love at the same time.
Etretat is becoming more and more amazing. Now is the real moment: the beach with all its fine boats; it is superb, and I am enraged not to be more skillful in rendering all this. I would need two hands and hundreds of canvases.
My wish is to stay always like this, living quietly in a corner of nature.
For a long time, I have hoped for better days, but alas, today it is necessary for me to lose all hope. My poor wife suffers more and more. I do not think it is possible to be any weaker.
I have always worked better alone and from my own impressions.