Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?
Really, I do not know whether my paintings are surrealist or not, but I do know that they are the frankest expression of myself.
I paint flowers so they will not die.
I am my own muse, the subject I know best.
I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality.
I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.
I find that Americans completely lack sensibility and good taste. They are boring, and they all have faces like unbaked rolls.
There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley, and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.
I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good feeling.
I am happy to be alive, as long as I can paint.
I was a child who went about in a world of colors... My friends, my companions, became women slowly; I became old in instants.
I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.
The most important part of the body is the brain. Of my face, I like the eyebrows and eyes. Aside from that, I like nothing. My head is too small.
I don't know how to write love letters.
I love you more than my own skin.
The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration.
I paint my own reality. The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration.
My painting carries with it the message of pain.
They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn't. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.
Painting completed my life.
My toys were those of a boy: skates, bicycles.
I am in agreement with everything my father taught me and nothing my mother taught me.
I put on the canvas whatever comes into my mind.
Of the opposite sex, I have the moustache and, in general, the face.
Since my subjects have always been my sensations, my states of mind and the profound reactions that life has been producing in me, I have frequently objectified all this in figures of myself, which were the most sincere and real thing that I could do in order to express what I felt inside and outside of myself.
To paint is the most terrific thing that there is, but to do it well is very difficult.