The Space Between The Dish And The

Nature Is A Mere Pretext For A Decorative Composition, Plus Sentiment. It Suggests Emotion, And I Translate That Emotion Into Art.

Scientific Perspective Forces The Objects In A Picture To Disappear Away From The Beholder Instead Of Bringing Them Within His Reach As Painting Should.

Whatever Is Valuable In Painting Is Precisely What One Is Incapable Of Talking About.

I Have Made A Great Discovery. I No Longer Believe In Anything. Objects Don't Exist For Me Except In So Far As A Rapport Exists Between Them And Myself. When One Attains This Harmony, One Reaches A Sort Of Intellectual Non-existence, What I Can Only Describe As A Sense Of Peace, Which Makes Everything Possible And Right. Life Then Becomes A Perpetual Revelation. That Is True Poetry.

One Has To Guard Against A Formula That Is Good For Everything, That Can Interpret Reality In Addition To The Other Arts, And That Rather Than Creating Can Only Result In A Style, Or A Stylization.