The older I grow, the more I find myself alone.

I've tried doing so, for it was never my intention to paint only with gray. But in the course of my work I have eliminated one color after another, and what has remained is gray, gray, gray!

The head is what matters. The rest of the body plays the part of antennae making life possible for people and life itself is inside the skull.

I've been fifty thousand times to the Louvre. I have copied everything in drawing, trying to understand.

The form is always the measure of the obsession.

I paint and sculpt to get a grip on reality... to protect myself.

I don't know who I am or who I was. I know it less than ever. I do and I don't identify myself with myself. Everything is totally contradictory, but maybe I have remained exactly as I was as a small boy of twelve.