The imagination is the vehicle of sensibility. Transported by the imagination, we attain life, life itself, which is absolute art.

I remain detached and distant, but it is under my eyes and my orders that the work of art must create itself. Then, when the creation starts, I stand there, present at the ceremony, immaculate, calm, relaxed... ready to welcome the work of art that is coming into existence in the tangible world.

Blue has no dimensions, it is beyond dimensions.

At first there is nothing, then there is a profound nothingness, after that a blue profundity.

As I lay stretched upon the beach of Nice, I began to feel hatred for birds which flew back and forth across my blue sky, cloudless sky, because they tried to bore holes in my greatest and most beautiful work.

Color is sensitivity in material form, substance in its purest form.

I have written my name on the far side of the sky.