A work is never completed except by some accident such as weariness, satisfaction, the need to deliver, or death: for, in relation to who or what is making it, it can only be one stage in a series of inner transformations.

There is a difference if we see something with a pencil in our hand or without one.

We are enriched by our reciprocate differences.

No work of art is ever completed, it is only abandoned.

Great things are accomplished by those who do not feel the impotence of man. This is a precious gift.

Politeness is organized indifference.

The advantage of the incomprehensible is that it never loses its freshness.