Those Trying To Explain Pictures Are As

What One Does Is What Counts. Not What One Had The Intention Of Doing.

Each Time I Undertake To Paint A Picture I Have A Sensation Of Leaping Into Space. I Never Know Whether I Shall Fall On My Feet. It Is Only Later That I Begin To Estimate More Exactly The The Effect Of My Work.

The Only Thing That's Important Is The Legend Created By The Picture, And Not Whether It Continues To Exist Itself.

Let Them Understand Above All That The Artist Works From Necessity; That He, Too, Is A Minute Element Of The World To Whom One Should Ascribe No More Importance Than So Many Things In Nature Which Charm Us But Which We Do Not Explain To Ourselves.

But When I Am Alone, I Do Not Have The Effrontery To Consider Myself An Artist At All, Not In The Grand Old Meaning Of The Word: Giotto, Titian, Rembrandt, Goya Were Great Painters. I Am Only A Public Clown-a Mountebank. I Have Understood My Time And Have Exploited The Imbecility, The Vanity, The Greed Of My Contemporaries. It Is A Bitter Confession, This Confession Of Mine, More Painful Than It May Seem. But At Least And At Last It Does Have The Merit Of Being Honest.