I am the soul in limbo.

The art of Frida Kahlo is a ribbon around a bomb.

No one who has lived even for a fleeting moment for something other than life in its conventional sense and has experienced the exaltation that this feeling produces can then renounce his new freedom so easily.

For me, the single word "God" suggests everything that is slippery, shady, squalid, foul, and grotesque.

Leave everything. Leave Dada. Leave your wife. Leave your mistress. Leave your hopes and fears. Leave your children in the woods. Leave the substance for the shadow. Leave your easy life, leave what you are given for the future. Set off on the roads.

It is impossible for me to envisage a picture as being other than a window, and why my first concern is then to know what it looks out on.

Surrealism is based on the belief in the omnipotence of dreams, in the undirected play of thought.