The Artist Has To Look At Life

My Models, My Human Figures, Are Never Like Extras In An Interior. They Are The Main Theme Of My Work. I Depend Absolutely On My Model.

Exactitude Is Not Truth. [fr., L'exactitude N'est Pas La Verite.]

I Have Always Sought To Be Understood And, While I Was Taken To Task By Critics Or Colleagues, I Thought They Were Right, Assuming I Had Not Been Clear Enough To Be Understood. This Assumption Allowed Me To Work My Whole Life Without Hatred And Even Without Bitterness Toward Criticism, Regardless Of Its Source. I Counted Solely On The Clarity Of Expression Of My Work To Gain My Ends. Hatred, Rancor, And The Spirit Of Vengeance Are Useless Baggage To The Artist. His Road Is Difficult Enough For Him To Cleanse His Soul Of Everything Which Could Make It More So.

I Am Unable To Distinguish Between The Feeling I Have For Life And My Way Of Expressing It.

I Was Very Embarrassed When My Canvases Began To Fetch High Prices. I Saw Myself Condemned To A Future Of Nothing But Masterpieces.