Love in an animal sense is an illness, but a necessity which one has to overcome.

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

Art is creative for the sake of realization, not for amusement... for transfiguration, not for the sake of play.

The greatest mystery of all is reality.

I think only of objects: of a leg or an arm, of the wonderful sense of foreshortening, breaking through the plane, of the division of space, of the combination of straight lines in relation to curved ones.

When spiritual, metaphysical, material, or immaterial events come into my life, I can only fix them by way of painting.

I went across the fields to avoid the straight highways, along the firing lines where people were shooting at a small wooded hill, which is now covered with wooden crosses and lines of graves instead of spring flowers.