Painting is a very difficult thing. It absorbs the whole man, body and soul, thus have I passed blindly many things which belong to real and political life.

Painting constantly appeared to me as the one and only possible achievement.

What are you? What am I? Those are the questions that constantly persecute and torment me and perhaps also play some part in my art.

It was so wonderful outside that even the wild senselessness of this enormous death, whose music I hear again and again, could not disturb me from my great enjoyment!

One of my problems is to find the self.

There is nothing I hate more than sentimentality.

I believe the reason I love painting so much is that it forces one to be objective.