Only reality interests me now and I know I could spend the rest of my life in copying a chair.

When you look at art made by other people, you see what you need to see in it.

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

If only someone else could paint what I see, it would be marvellous, because then I wouldnt have to paint at all.

In the past I have never thought about loneliness when working, and I don't think about it now. Yet there must be a reason for the fact that so many people talk about it.

Once the object has been constructed, I have a tendency to rediscover in it, transformed and displaced, images, impressions, facts which have deeply moved me (often without my knowing it).

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.