I repeatedly refuse to make any practical decisions. I get a feeling of nausea about practicality.

I first think of intelligence. You need it for surviving in Italy because Italy is so pompous.

If you want to compete in Italy, the only accepted ways are brute force, or cunning. Like Machiavelli says, "Fronte otra forze." And neither of these two "virtues" is suited to an artist. The artist has to stay intelligent.

It is very scary to think mechanically about someone you know. That means that the second time you meet a person is useless. Which I tend to believe anyway.

When I look at a drawing of a person, I look at that person as living.

When you sit for an hour and a half in front of somebody, he or she shows about twenty faces. And so it's this crazy chase of, Which face? Which one is the one?

Painting is like making love. You cannot ask, 'How do you do it?' But, hopefully, it is beautiful.