I Consider Painting As A Means Of

Chess Players Are Madmen Of A Certain Quality, The Way The Artist Is Supposed To Be, And Isn't, In General.

In The Last Analysis, The Artist May Shout From All The Rooftops That He Is A Genius; He Will Have To Wait For The Verdict Of Posterity.

The Individual, Man As A Man, Man As A Brain, If You Like, Interests Me More Than What He Makes, Because I've Noticed That Most Artists Only Repeat Themselves.

I Believe That A Picture, A Work Of Art, Lives And Dies Just As We Do.

I Like Living, Breathing Better Than Working...my Art Is That Of Living. Each Second, Each Breath Is A Work Which Is Inscribed Nowhere, Which Is Neither Visual Nor Cerebral, It's A Sort Of Constant Euphoria.