Art is a wound turned into light.
Out of limitations, new forms emerge
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.
We will never have repose. The present is perpetual.
Once an object has been incorporated in a picture it accepts a new destiny.
To define a thing is to substitute the definition for the thing itself.