I believe that a picture, a work of art, lives and dies just as we do.

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.

It's not what you see that is art. Art is the gap.

I wanted to kill art for myself.. ..a new thought for that object.

I have forced myself to contradict myself in order to avoid conforming to my own taste.

All this twaddle, the existence of God, atheism, determinism, liberation, societies, death, etc., are pieces of a chess game called language, and they are amusing only if one does not preoccupy oneself with 'winning or losing this game of chess.

I was poking fun at myself most of all.