One never knows what one is going to do. One starts a painting and then it becomes something quite different.

Some painters transform the sun into a yellow spot; others transform a yellow spot into the sun.

Everyone wants to understand painting. Why is there no attempt to understand the song of the birds?

They ought to put out the eyes of painters as they do goldfinches in order that they can sing better.

Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things.

Are we to paint what's on the face, what's inside the face, or what's behind it?