I refuse to confide and don't like it when people write about art.

Painting is a language which cannot be replaced by another language. I don't know what to say about what I paint, really.

Painting what I experience, translating what I feel, is like a great liberation. But it is also work, self-examination, consciousness, criticism, struggle.

One must always draw, draw with the eyes, when one cannot draw with a pencil.

The craft of painting has virtually disappeared. There is hardly anyone left who really possesses it. For evidence one has only to look at the painters of this century.

I will always find even the worst paintings that attempt some kind of representation better than the best invented paintings.