The life of an artist is like the life of a monk, a lewd monk if you like, very Rabelaisian. It is an ordination.

I don't believe in art. I believe in artists.

What I have in mind is that art may be bad, good or indifferent, but, whatever adjective is used, we must call it art, and bad art is still art in the same way that a bad emotion is still an emotion.

Anything is art if an artist says it is.

I was interested in ideas, not merely visual products. I wanted to put painting once again at the service of the mind.

I have drawn people's attention to the fact that art is a mirage. A mirage, just like the oasis that appears in the desert. It is very beautiful, until the moment when you die of thirst, obviously. But we do not die of thirst in the field of art. The mirage has substance.

Three or four drops of height have nothing to do with savageness.