I was much more interested in literature than I was in art. I just got into art by mistake.

[On Venice:] Every hour of the day is a miracle of light. In summer with daybreak the rising sun produces such a tender magic on the water that it nearly breaks one's heart.

[On John Tunnard:] One day a marvelous man in a highly elaborate tweed coat walked into the gallery. He looked a little like Groucho Marx. He was as animated as a jazz-band leader, which he turned out to be. He showed us his gouaches, which were as musical as Kandinsky's, as delicate as Klee's, and as gay as Miró's.

I look back on my life with great joy. I think it was a very successful life. I always did what I wanted and never cared what anyone thought. Women's lib? I was a liberated woman long before there was a name for it.

[When asked how many husbands she had had:] My own, or other people's?

Venice is not only a city of fantasy and freedom. It is also a city of joy and pleasure.

I don't collect anymore. Everything is so terribly expensive. I don't see anything I like anyhow.