60 Quotes About Van-gogh

And just as this illness changed his life, and hers, and Claudette's and their house on rue de l'Agneau, so it changed that old, cracked globe. It felt different in her hands--smaller. She'd hold it like an egg that could break under her touch. Because now Jeanne's mind could not be on future of foreign countries, it had to be on the cutting up of food, the emptying of chamber pots. Her life moved around her father, and loving him more closely--and how could she resent this?

No.” The word burned in his mouth and sizzled on his tongue. “A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand.” His last words were with finality, his eyes no longer sparked. “I think, I too have knownautumn too long.

These workers," said Mendes with a gentle sweep of his arm, "have a hard life of it. When illness comes they have no money for a doctor. The food for tomorrow comes from today's labour, and hard labour it is, too. Their houses, as you see, are small and poor; they are never more than a stone's throw away from privation and want. They've made a bad bargain with life; they need the thought of God to comfort them.

I keep hoping that I’ll come up with something. To express the love of two lovers by the marriage of two complementary colours, their blending and their contrast, the mysterious vibrations of related tones. To express that thought of a brow by the radiance of a light tone against a dark background. To express hope by some star. Someone’s passion by the radiance of the setting sun.

curling leaves and twining branches outside my bay window look like a Van Gogh in the starlight - there is a river out there somewhere

Van Gogh would have to cut his cock off to make an impression nowadays

Vincent took them in the full spirit of friendship which knows that the difference between giving and taking is purely temporal.

And I got the like, crazy mental illness, so like, maybe someday they'll be like, 'Yeah, he was like Rembrandt, or, uh, Picasso, only he didn't, he didn't cut his ear off, but he ate his own shit. That's so funny, dude. Oh, that's so funny. I'm glad I'm secure in my own idiocy.

And I got the like, crazy mental illness, so like, maybe someday they'll be like, 'Yeah, he was like Rembrandt, or, uh, Picasso, only he didn't, he didn't cut his ear off, but he ate his own shit'. That's so funny, dude. Oh, that's so funny. I'm glad I'm secure in my own idiocy.