What torments my soul is its loneliness. The more it expands among friends and the daily habits or pleasures, the more, it seems to me, it flees me and retires into its fortress. The poet who lives in solitude, but who produces much, is the one who enjoys those treasures we bear in our bosom, but which forsake us when we give ourselves to others. When one yields oneself completely to one's soul, it opens itself to one, and then it is that the capricious thing allows one the greatest of good fortunes... that of sympathizing with others, of studying itself, of painting itself constantly in its works.

Famous Quotes / Eugene Delacroix

Authors: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Eugene Delacroix: "What torments my soul is its loneliness. The more it expands among friends and the daily habits or pleasures, the more, it seems to me, it flees me and retires into its fortress. The poet who lives in solitude, but who produces much, is the one who enjoys those treasures we bear in our bosom, but which forsake us when we give ourselves to others. When one yields oneself completely to one's soul, it opens itself to one, and then it is that the capricious thing allows one the greatest of good fortunes... that of sympathizing with others, of studying itself, of painting itself constantly in its works."

Quotations about

Allows	Among	Bear	Bosom
Capricious	Completely	Constantly	Daily
Enjoys	Expands	Flees	Forsake
Fortress	Fortunes	Friends	Give
Good	Greatest	Habits	Into
Itself	Lives	Loneliness	Ones
Oneself	Opens	Others	Ourselves
Painting	Pleasures	Poet	Produces
Retires	Seems	Solitude	Soul
Studying	Sympathizing	Thing	Torments
Treasures	Works	Yields

Quotes by Power Quotations

What torments my soul is its loneliness. The more it expands among friends and the daily habits or pleasures, the more, it seems to me, it flees me and retires into its fortress. The poet who lives in solitude, but who produces much, is the one who enjoys those treasures we bear in our bosom, but which forsake us when we give ourselves to others. When one yields oneself completely to one's soul, it opens itself to one, and then it is that the capricious thing allows one the greatest of good fortunes... that of sympathizing with others, of studying itself, of painting itself constantly in its works. - Eugene Delacroix