All Things Considered, There Is Only Matisse.

The Artist Is A Receptacle For Emotions That Come From All Over The Place: From The Sky, From The Earth, From A Scrap Of Paper, From A Passing Shape, From A Spider's Web.

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

I Never Calculate. That Is Why Those Who Do, Calculate So Much Less Accurately Than I.

Inspiration Exists, But It Has To Find Us Working.

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.