One Never Paints Violently Enough.

I Live In Company With A Body, A Silent Companion, Exacting And Eternal. He It Is Who Notes That Individuality Which Is The Seal Of The Weakness Of Our Race. My Soul Has Wings, But The Brutal Jailer Is Strict.

As For The Ridiculous Fear Of Making Things Below One's Potential Abilities... No, There Is The Root Of The Evil. There Is The Hiding Place Of Stupidity I Must Attack: Vain Mortal, You Are Limited By Nothing.

All Painting Worth Its Name, Unless One Is Talking About Black And White, Must Include The Idea Of Color As One Of Its Necessary Supports, In The Same Way That It Includes Chiaroscuro, Proportion, And Perspective.

If One Considered Life As A Simple Loan, One Would Perhaps Be Less Exacting. We Possess Actually Nothing; Everything Goes Through Us.

The Secret Of Not Having Worries, For Me At Least, Is To Have Ideas.