Life is merely a fraction of a second. An infinitely small amount of time to fulfill our desires, our dreams, our passions.
A bit of advice, don't copy nature too closely. Art is an abstraction; as you dream amid nature, extrapolate art from it, and concentrate on what you will create as a result.
Night is here. All is at rest. My eyes close in order to see without actually understanding the dream that flees before men infinite space; and I experience the languorous sensation produced by the mournful procession of my hopes.
Do not copy nature. Art is an abstraction. Rather, bring your art forth by dreaming in front of her and think more of creation.
A great sentiment can be rendered immediately. Dream on it and look for the simplest form in which you can express it.
You may dream freely when you listen to music as well as when you look at painting. When you read a book you are the slave of the author's mind.
Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.
Seek art and abstraction in nature by dreaming in the presence of it.
And here in my isolation I can grow stronger. Poetry seems to come of itself, without effort, and I need only let myself dream a little while painting to suggest it.
Color! What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams.
My eyes close and uncomprehendingly see the dream in the infinite space that stretches away, elusive, before me.