Vincent Van Gogh
Vincent Van Gogh
Vincent Willem van Gogh; 30 March 1853 – 29 July 1890) was a Dutch Post-Impressionist painter whose work had a far-reaching influence on 20th-century art. In just over a decade he created approximately 2100 artworks, including around 860 oil paintings, most of them in the last two years of his life. They include landscapes, still lifes, portraits and self-portraits, and are characterised by symbolic colourisation and dramatic, impulsive and highly expressive paintwork. He sold only one painting during his lifetime and...
NationalityDutch
ProfessionPainter
Date of Birth30 March 1853
CityZundert, Netherlands
Let’s not forget that the little emotions are the great captains of our lives and we obey them without realizing it.
Sometimes art seems to be something very sublime, and, as you say, something sacred.
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.
The emotions are sometimes so strong that I work without knowing it. The strokes come like speech.
Exaggerate the essential, leave the obvious vague.
Man is not on the earth solely for his own happiness. He is there to realize great things for humanity.
When we are working at a difficult task and strive after a good thing, we are fighting a righteous battle, the direct reward of which is that we are kept from much evil. As we advance in life it becomes more and more difficult, but in fighting the difficulties the inmost strength of the heart is developed. Indeed life is a have to defend and protect ourselves, and with a cheerful and brace spirit we must battle; we plan and calculate in order to make progress.
If one hasn't a horse, one is one's own horse.
Love always brings difficulties, that is true, but the good side of it is that it gives energy.
There is but one Paris and however hard living may be here, and if it became worse and harder even—the French air clears up the brain and does good—a world of good.
I am unable to describe exactly what is the matter with me; now and then there are horrible fits of anxiety, apparently without cause, or otherwise a feeling of emptiness and fatigue in the head.
Paintings have a life of their own that derives from the painter's soul.
There may be a great fire in our hearts, yet no one ever comes to warm himself at it, and the passers-by see only a wisp of smoke.
Keep your love of nature, for that is the true way to understand art more and more.