Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.
When I die, it will be a shipwreck, and as when a huge ship sinks, many people all around will be sucked down with it.
They ought to put out the eyes of painters as they do goldfinches in order that they can sing better.
To draw you must close your eyes and sing.
To finish a work? To finish a picture? What nonsense! To finish it means to be through with it, to kill it, to rid it of its soul, to give it its final blow the coup de grace for the painter as well as for the picture.
We all know that Art is not truth. Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth, at least the truth that is given to us to understand.
We must not discriminate between things. Where things are concerned there are no class distinctions. We must pick out what is good for us where we can find it.
There is no abstract art. You must always start with something. Afterward you can remove all traces of reality.
What might be taken for a precocious genius is the genius of childhood. When the child grows up, it disappears without a trace. It may happen that this boy will become a real painter some day, or even a great painter. But then he will have to begin everything again, from zero.
Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? no. Just as one can never learn how to paint.
Work is a necessity for man. Man invented the alarm clock.
You mustn't always believe what I say. Questions tempt you to tell lies, particularly when there is no answer.
Youth has no age.
All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.
One must act in painting as in life, directly.