Art is made to trouble but science reassures.

With age, art and life become one.

Writing is not describing, painting is not depicting. Verisimilitude is merely an illusion.

The things that Picasso and I said to one another during those years will never be said again, and even if they were, no one would understand them anymore. It was like being roped together on a mountain.

A painting without something disturbing in it – what's that?.

When one reaches this state of harmony between things and one's self, one reaches a state of perfect freedom and peace-which makes everything possible and right. Life becomes perpetual revelation.

Once an object has been incorporated in a picture it accepts a new destiny.