People want to find a 'meaning' in everything and everyone. That's the disease of our age...

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!

What is a face, really? Its own photo? Its make-up? Or is it a face as painted by such or such painter? That which is in front? Inside? Behind? And the rest? Doesn't everyone look at himself in his own particular way? Deformations simply do not exist.

If I like it, I say it's mine. If I don't I say it's a fake.

The urge to destroy is also a creative urge.

When I paint a woman in an armchair, the armchair is there to show illness and death-or as a protection.

People want Art. And they are given it. But the less Art there is in painting the more painting there is.