One of the most striking signs of the decay of art is when we see its separate forms jumbled together.

Truth is in all things, even partly, in error.

A critic is a soldier that fires on his own men.

Why all these signs around us that make me doubt language and submerge me in meanings, drowning reality instead of extracting it from the imaginary?

I am a painter with letters. I want to restore everything, mix everything up and say everything.

There is no more discovery. Not since the beginning of this century. There are new gadgets. New important gadgets.

We are all older and more tired.