I can always paint very well with my eyes, but with my hands it doesn't always work out.

I thought I was a revolutionary and was only an evolutionary.

It seems to me nowadays that the most important task for someone who is aging is to spread love and warmth whenever possible.

I do not want to die... until I have faithfully made the most of my talent and cultivated the seed that was placed in me, until the last small twig has grown.

Bisexuality is almost a necessary factor in artistic production; at any rate, the tinge of masculinity within me helped me in my work.

Recently I began reading my old diaries. Back to before the war. Gradually I became very depressed. The reason for that is probably that I wrote only when there were obstacles and halts to the flow of life, seldom when everything was smooth and even. ... As I read I distinctly felt what a half-truth a diary presents.

Where do all the women who have watched so carefully over the lives of their beloved ones get the heroism to send them to face the cannon?