Whores Are The Most Honest Girls. They

The Human Face Is As Strange To Me As A Countenance, Which, The More One Looks At It, The More It Closes Itself Off And Escapes By The Steps Of Unknown Stairways.

Failure Is My Best Friend. If I Succeeded, It Would Be Like Dying. Maybe Worse.

When I Make My Drawings... The Path Traced By My Pencil On The Sheet Of Paper Is, To Some Extent, Analogous To The Gesture Of A Man Groping His Way In The Darkness.

Taste For Things Of The Past Evolves, Doesn't It? What Was A Masterpiece A Hundred Years Ago Is No Longer So Today.

I See Something, Find It Marvelous, Want To Try And Do It. Whether It Fails Or Whether It Comes Off In The End Becomes Secondary. . . . So Long As I've Learned Something About Why.