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.

Space, and space again, is the infinite deity which surrounds us and in which we are ourselves contained.

I am seeking for the bridge which leans from the visible to the invisible through reality.

I do not weep: I loathe tears, for they are a sign of slavery.

Height, width, and depth are the three phenomena which I must transfer into one plane to form the abstract surface of the picture, and thus to protect myself from the infinity of space.

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.

All important things in art have always originated from the deepest feeling about the mystery of Being.