This past summer I realized that I am not the sort of woman to stand alone in life. Apart from the eternal worries about money, it is precisely the f… - Paula Modersohn-Becker

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This past summer I realized that I am not the sort of woman to stand alone in life. Apart from the eternal worries about money, it is precisely the freedom I have had which was able to lure me away from myself. I would so much like to get to the point where I can create something that is me. It is up to the future to determine for us whether I'm acting bravely or not. The main thing now is peace and quiet for my work, and I have that most of all when I am at Otto Modersohn's side.

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About Paula Modersohn-Becker

Paula Modersohn-Becker (February 8, 1876 - November 21, 1907) was a German painter in Worpswede and one of the most important representatives of early German Expressionism. She frequently stayed in Paris and saw the work of modern artists there, like paintings of Cézanne and early Henri Matisse's.

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Paula Modersohn- Becker Paula Becker Paula Modersohn Becker Paula Becker-Modersohn Paula Modershohn-Becker Paula Moderson-Becker Paula Modersohn-Becker (pseudonym) Paula (pseudonym) Modersohn-Becker Paula Modersohn
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Additional quotes by Paula Modersohn-Becker

The Journal of Marie Bashkirtseff. Her thoughts enter my bloodstream and make me very sad. I say as she doers: if only I could accomplish something! My existence seems humiliating to me. We don't have the right to strut around, not until we've made something of ourselves.

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I have been depressed for days. Profoundly sad and solemn. I think the time is coming for struggle and uncertainty. It comes into every serious and beautiful life. I knew all along that it had to come. I've been expecting it. I am not afraid of it. I know it will mature and help me develop. But everything seems so serious and so hard, serious and sad to me. I walk through this huge city [Paris]. I look into a thousand thousand eyes. But I almost never find a soul there.. .And beneath it all flows the Styx [the Seine], deep and slow, knowing nothing of these brooks and wells of ours. I am sad. And all around me ate the heavy, pregnant, perfumed breezes of spring..

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