The Only Thing Emanating From

What I Find Horrible Nowadays Is That People Are Always Trying To Find A Personality For Themselves. Nobody Bothers About What You Might Call A Painter's Ideal... The Kind That's Always Existed... No. They Couldn't Care Less About That.

I Deal With Painting As I Deal With Things, I Paint A Window Just As I Look Out Of A Window. If An Open Window Looks Wrong In A Picture, I Draw The Curtain And Shut It, Just As I Would In My Own Room. In Painting, As In Life, You Must Act Directly.

Abstract Art Is Only Painting. And What's So Dramatic About That? There Is No Abstract Art. One Must Always Begin With Something. Afterwards One Can Remove All Semblance Of Reality; There Is No Longer Any Danger As The Idea Of The Object Has Left An Indelible Imprint.

The Earth Doesn't Have A Housekeeper To Do The Dusting. And The Dust That Falls On It Every Day Remains There. Everything That's Come Down To Us From The Past Has Been Conserved By Dust.

In One Way Or Another, I Always Marked My Pictures. But There Were Times When I Put My Signature On The Back Of The Canvas. All My Works From The Cubist Period, Until About 1914, Have My Name And The Date On The Back Side Of The Stretcher. I Know Someone Spread The Story That In Céret, Braque And I Decided Not To Sign Our Pictures Anymore. But That's Just A Legend!