I Wouldn't Mind Turning Into A Vermilion

From Bonheur De Vivre - I Was Thirty-five Then - To This Cut-out - I Am Eighty-two - I Have Not Changed; Not In The Way My Friends Mean Who Want To Compliment Me, No Matter What, On My Good Health, But Because All This Time I Have Looked For The Same Things, Which I Have Perhaps Realized By Different Means.

Color, Even More Than Drawing, Is A Means Of Liberation.

My Pictures Are Made Up Of Four Or Five Colors That Collide With One Another.

One Must, Of Course, Have One's Entire Experience Behind One And Not Have Lost The Freshness Of Instinct.

Impressionism Is The Newspaper Of The Soul.