A critic in my house sees some paintings. Greatly perturbed, he asks for my drawings. My drawings? Never! They are my letters, my secrets.

A great sentiment can be rendered immediately. Dream on it and look for the simplest form in which you can express it.

Life is merely a fraction of a second. An infinitely small amount of time to fulfill our desires, our dreams, our passions.

There is always a heavy demand for fresh mediocrity. In every generation the least cultivated taste has the largest appetite.

Color! What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams.

Oh yes! he loved yellow, this good Vincent, this painter from Holland - those glimmers of sunlight rekindled his soul, that abhorred the fog, that needed the warmth.

Seek art and abstraction in nature by dreaming in the presence of it.