We are in a period of searchers rather than of creators.
Why shouldn’t art be pretty? There are enough unpleasant things in the world.
An artist, under pain of oblivion, must have confidence in himself, and listen only to his real master: Nature.
It is after you have lost your teeth that you can afford to buy steaks.
A painter who has the feel of breasts and buttocks is saved.
The pain passes, but the beauty remains.