I have made a great discovery. I no longer believe in anything. Objects don't exist for me except in so far as a rapport exists between them and myself. When one attains this harmony, one reaches a sort of intellectual non-existence, what I can only describe as a sense of peace, which makes everything possible and right. Life then becomes a perpetual revelation. That is true poetry.

I do not believe in objects. I believe only in their relationships.

Painting is a nail to which I fasten my ideas.

I couldn't portray a woman in all her natural loveliness... I haven't the skill. No one has. I must, therefore, create a new sort of beauty.

Truth exists, only falsehood has to be invented.

Thanks to the oval I have discovered the meaning of the horizontal and the vertical.

Art disturbs, science reassures.