He can who thinks he can, and he can't who thinks he can't. This is an inexorable, indisputable law.

In one way or another, I always marked my pictures. But there were times when I put my signature on the back of the canvas. All my works from the cubist period, until about 1914, have my name and the date on the back side of the stretcher. I know someone spread the story that in Céret, Braque and I decided not to sign our pictures anymore. But that's just a legend!

There are chemists who spend their whole lives trying to find out what's in a lump of sugar. I want to know one thing. What is color?

I don't believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history. There are no accidents.

Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? no. Just as one can never learn how to paint.

I don't think I'm wrong when I say that the most beautiful objects of the "stone age" were made of skin, fabric, and especially wood. The "stone age" ought to be called the "wood age." How many African statues are made of stone, bone, or ivory? Maybe one in a thousand! And prehistoric man had no more ivory at his disposal than African tribes. Maybe even less. He must have had thousands of wooden fetishes, all gone now.

I have a horror of people who speak about the beautiful. What is the beautiful? One must speak of problems in painting!