Everything vanishes around me, and works are born as if out of the void. Ripe, graphic fruits fall off. My hand has become the obedient instrument of a remote will.

To emphasize only the beautiful seems to me to be like a mathematical system that only concerns itself with positive numbers.

The painter should not paint what he sees, but what will be seen.

See with one eye, feel with the other.

When looking at any significant work of art, remember that a more significant one probably has had to be sacrificed.

I want to be as though newborn. To be almost primitive.

I want to be as though new-born, knowing nothing, absolutely nothing. Then I want to do something modest; to work out by myself a tiny, formal motive, one that my pencil will be able to hold without technique.