Color

Mere color, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.

Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions.

Of all God's gifts to the sighted man, color is holiest, the most divine, the most solemn.

The purest and most thoughtful minds are those which love color the most.

Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? no. Just as one can never learn how to paint.

White is not a mere absence of color; it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red, as definite as black. God paints in many colors; but He never paints so gorgeously, I had almost said so gaudily, as when He paints in white.

I cannot pretend to feel impartial about colors. I rejoice with the brilliant ones and am genuinely sorry for the poor browns.

Blueness doth express trueness.

Painting is something that takes place among the colors, and one has to leave them alone completely, so that they can settle the matter among themselves. Their intercourse: this is the whole of painting. Whoever meddles, arranges, injects his human deliberation, his wit, his advocacy, his intellectual agility in any way, is already disturbing and clouding their activity.

He had that curious love of green, which in individuals is always the sign of a subtle artistic temperament, and in nations is said to denote a laxity, if not a decadence of morals.