My works are an imitation of my own past and present.

Halfway through any work, one is often tempted to go off on a tangent. Once you have yielded, you will be tempted to yield again and again... Finally, you would only produce something hybrid.

[My works are] an imitation of my own past and present and of my own creative vitality as I experience them in one particular instant of my emotional and imaginative life. . .

At no point do I wish to be in conflict with any man or masculine thought. It doesn't enter my consciousness. Art is anonymous. It's not competitive with men. It's a complementary contribution.

Body experience... is the centre of creation.

My left hand is my thinking hand (image), my right hand my doing hand (sequence).

I love my blocks of marble, always piling up in the yard like a flock of sheep.