What a genius, that Picasso. It is a pity he doesn't paint.

I adore the theater and I am a painter. I think the two are made for a marriage of love. I will give all my soul to prove this once more.

I am out to introduce a psychic shock into my painting, one that is always motivated by pictorial reasoning: that is to say, a fourth dimension.

Despite all the troubles of our world, in my heart I have never given up on the love in which I was brought up or on man's hope in love. In life, just as on the artist's palette, there is but one single colour that gives meaning to life and art–the colour of love

One fine day as my mother was putting the bread in the oven, I went up to her and taking her by her flour-smeared elbow I said to her, Mama I want to be a painter.

What a genius, that Picasso. It is a pity he doesn't paint.

I've always painted pictures in which human love floods my colors.