Art Is Not Chaste. Those

What Is A Face, Really? Its Own Photo? Its Make-up? Or Is It A Face As Painted By Such Or Such Painter? That Which Is In Front? Inside? Behind? And The Rest? Doesn't Everyone Look At Himself In His Own Particular Way? Deformations Simply Do Not Exist.

I Do Things I Don't Know How To Do In Order To Learn How To Do Them.

There Are Only Two Types Of Women - Goddesses And Doormats.

You Can Go To The Moon Or Walk Under The Sea, Or Anything Else You Like, But Painting Remains Painting Because It Eludes Such Investigation. It Remains There Like A Question. And It Alone Gives The Answer.

For Being A Bad Student I Was Banished To The 'calaboose' - A Bare Cell With Whitewashed Walls And A Bench To Sit On. I Liked It There, Because I Took Along A Sketch Pad And Drew Incessantly I Could Have Stayed There Forever Drawing Without Stopping