There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against

Hear the vision of Édouard Manet, painter of light and master of perception, who declared: “There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against another.” In this simple saying he revealed both the secret of art and the truth of existence. For the world is not drawn with borders as man imagines, but flows in endless gradations—shadows melting into light, sky blending into horizon, flesh against fabric, leaf against air. The human mind invents lines to divide, but the eye of truth perceives only continuity, only the interplay of colours upon the living canvas of the world.

The meaning is profound: lines are the inventions of logic, boundaries imposed by thought, while colour is the language of reality itself. When we gaze upon the meadow, we see not a line that separates the earth from the sky, but the sky descending in light blue into the rising green of the grass. When we behold a face, we see not lines etched upon the skin, but subtle transitions of tone and shade, of warmth and shadow. Thus Manet, in his rebellion against rigid academic art, reminded us that life is not a drawing of fixed borders, but a living harmony of colours uniting and opposing one another.

Consider the story of Claude Monet, who followed Manet’s vision into the heart of Impressionism. Standing by the water at Giverny, he did not paint the pond with lines; he painted with strokes of colour—lilac against blue, green against gold, shadow against light. To those accustomed to outlines and clarity, his works seemed chaotic, unfinished. Yet when the viewer stepped back, the colours merged into life itself, truer than any line could capture. Through Manet’s insight, Monet and his companions changed the very way the world learned to see.

History, too, teaches us this truth beyond art. The empires of men have drawn lines on maps, borders to divide nations, races, and peoples. Yet the earth itself knows no such divisions—the rivers flow, the winds cross mountains, the birds migrate, the oceans meet without boundary. The reality of nature is not line but flow, not barrier but blending. It is man who imagines walls; the world itself is seamless. And whenever humanity has clung too fiercely to its imagined lines, conflict has followed.

Manet’s words are also parable for the soul. We often seek to divide life into strict categories: good and evil, success and failure, joy and sorrow. Yet as the artist knew, reality is seldom so divided. In every sorrow there is a shade of beauty; in every triumph, a shadow of struggle. To see life as it truly is, we must perceive the colours, not the lines. We must learn to embrace the blending, the complexity, the subtle transitions that make existence rich and full.

O children of tomorrow, take this lesson into your eyes and into your hearts: do not seek only the sharp outline, but learn to see the harmony of colours. In people, do not divide with lines of class, race, or creed; instead, see the blending of spirit and story, each life shading into another. In the world, do not cling to rigid categories of success, but honor the gradations of growth, the beauty of becoming. To live truly is to see as the artist sees—not in boundaries, but in depth and tone.

Therefore, practice this wisdom: when you look at the world, soften your gaze. See not only the edges, but the transitions. When you meet others, do not fix them with labels as with lines; see the full colour of their humanity. And when you face your own life, do not judge it by rigid outlines of perfection or failure, but by the richness of its hues. For it is the interplay of colours that creates the masterpiece.

Thus Manet’s words endure: “There are no lines in nature, only areas of colour, one against another.” Let them guide you to see the world not as divided, but as whole—not in outlines, but in living shades. In art, in nature, in life itself, the truest vision is not found in drawing lines, but in beholding the eternal play of colour that binds all things together.