At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.

I love you more than my own skin.

Surrealism is the magical surprise of finding a lion in a wardrobe, where you were 'sure' of finding shirts.

pain, pleasure and death are no more than a process for existence. The revolutionary struggle in this process is a doorway open to intelligence

Painting completed my life.

I wish I could do whatever I liked behind the curtain of “madness”. Then: I’d arrange flowers, all day long, I’d paint; pain, love and tenderness, I would laugh as much as I feel like at the stupidity of others, and they would all say: “Poor thing, she’s crazy!” (Above all I would laugh at my own stupidity.) I would build my world which while I lived, would be in agreement with all the worlds. The day, or the hour, or the minute that I lived would be mine and everyone else’s - my madness would not be an escape from “reality”.

Everyone's opinions about things change over time. Nothing is constant. Everything changes. And to hold onto some dogged idea forever is a little rigid and maybe naive.