To trap one's self-suffering is to risk being devoured from the inside.

They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn't. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.

Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?

... there is a skeleton (or death) that flees terrified in the face of my will to live.

Since my subjects have always been my sensations, my states of mind and the profound reactions that life has been producing in me, I have frequently objectified all this in figures of myself, which were the most sincere and real thing that I could do in order to express what I felt inside and outside of myself.

Nothing is absolute. Everything changes, everything moves, everything revolves, everything flies and goes away.

I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it's true I'm here, and I'm just as strange as you.