There are too many souls of wood not to love those wooden characters who do indeed have a soul.

An original artist is unable to copy. So he has only to copy in order to be original.

He has the manner of a giant with the look of a child, a lazy activeness, a mad wisdom, a solitude encompassing the world.

A picture is not a window...an abstract refers to no reality but its own.

In exiling myself I am not exiling a monster, but a man whom society will not allow to live, since it considers one of the mysterious cogs in God's masterpiece to be a mistake.

I am burning myself up and will always do so.

A prig always finds a last refuge in responsibility.