Listening only to my instincts, I discovered superb things.

I know that to paint the sea really well, you need to look at it every hour of every day in the same place so that you can understand its way in that particular spot; and that is why I am working on the same motifs over and over again, four or six times even.

Color is my day-long obsession, joy and torment. To such an extent indeed that one day, finding myself at the deathbed of a woman who had been and still was very dear to me, I caught myself in the act of focusing on her temples and automatically analyzing the succession of appropriately graded colors which death was imposing on her motionless face.

Listening only to my instincts, I discovered superb things.

No, I'm not a great painter. Neither am I a great poet.

It's on the strength of observation and reflection that one finds a way. So we must dig and delve unceasingly.

Apart from painting and gardening, I'm not good at anything.