Art Is Lies That Tell The Truth.

The Purpose Of Art Is Washing The Dust Of Daily Life Off Our Souls.

When We Did Cubist Paintings, Our Intention Was Not To Produce Cubist Paintings But To Express What Was Within Us. No One Laid Down A Course Of Action For Us, And Our Friends The Poets Followed Our Endeavour Attentively But They Never Dictated It To Us.

Colors, Like Features, Follow The Changes Of The Emotions.

Critics, Mathematicians, Scientists And Busybodies Want To Classify Everything, Marking The Boundaries And Limits... In Art, There Is Room For All Possibilities.

Formerly Pictures Used To Move Towards Completion In Progressive Stages. Each Day Would Bring Something New. A Picture Was A Sum Of Additions. With Me, Picture Is A Sum Of Destructions. I Do A Picture, Then I Destroy It. But In The Long Run Nothing Is Lost; The Red That I Took Away From One Place Turns Up Somewhere Else.