Pablo Quotes

Good taste is the enemy of creativity.

When I am finished painting, I paint again for relaxation.

The important thing is to create. Nothing else matters; creation is all.

For a long time I limited myself to one colour - as a form of discipline.

In art, there is neither past nor future. The art that is not in the present will never be.

Lord, protect me from what I want!

All human beings are born with the same creative potential. Most people squander theirs away on a million superfluous things. I expend mine on one thing and one thing only: my art.

As far as I am concerned, a painting speaks for itself. What is the use of giving explanations, when all is said and done? A painter has only one language.

An artist must be very careful not to look for models. As soon as one artist takes another as model, he is lost. There is no other point of departure than reality.

A good picture, any picture, has to be bristling with razor blades.

Enough of Art. It's Art that kills us. People no longer want to do painting: they make art.

In life you throw a ball. You hope it will reach a wall and bounce back so you can throw it again. You hope your friends will provide that wall.

It's always necessary to seek for perfection. Obviously, for us, this word no longer has the same meaning. To me, it means: from one canvas to the next, always go further, further.

From the point of view of art, there are no concrete or abstract forms, but only forms which are more or less convincing lies.

Whether he wants it or not, man is the instrument of nature; she imposes on him character and appearance.

To copy others is necessary, but to copy oneself is pathetic.

Style is besides the point. Nobody would pay attention if one always said the same thing, in the same words and the same tone of voice.

Academic training in beauty is a sham. We have been so deceived, but so well deceived that we can scarcely get back even a shadow of the truth.

Inspiration exists, but it has to find us working.

Basically the French are all peasants.

There's no such thing as a bad Picasso, but some are less good than others.

Sculpture is the best comment that a painter can make on painting.

I have a real passion for bones. I have many others in Boisgeloup: skeletons of birds, dog's and sheep's heads. I even have a rhinoceros skull.

When they say that I am too old to make a thing, I try to make it immediately.

Style is often something which locks the painter into the same vision, the same technique, the same formula during years and years, sometimes during one's whole lifetime.

When one starts from a portrait and seeks by successive eliminations to find pure form... one inevitably ends up with an egg.

As an artist, all I need is my paints and brushes - and someone to drag me away when the canvas is done

If you have five elements available use only four. If you have four elements use three.

One starts to get young at the age of sixty and then it is too late.

I see for others... in order to put on canvas the sudden apparitions which come to me.

Why do two colors, put one next to the other, sing? Can one really explain this? no. Just as one can never learn how to paint.

To find is the thing.

Art is not the application of a canon of beauty but what the instinct and the brain can conceive beyond any canon. When we love a woman we don't start measuring her limbs.

Let us not forget that the greatest composers were also the greatest thieves. They stole from everyone and everywhere.

I love the Discovery Channel. I love all sorts of medical shows. I love a show called Diagnosis: Unknown.

When you plan something, it never works.

You must work, we must all work, to make the world worthy of its children.

As long as one can admire and love, then one is young forever.

The only weapons I ever had were my cello and my baton.

The situation is hopeless, we must take the next step.

I grew up watching movies that just transformed my vision, not just in cinema, in life, and you discover that this - it's an endless tool.

From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.

Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.

I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

I believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.

Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit.

For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.

We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses.

As slippery as smooth grapes, words exploding in the light like dormant seeds waiting in the vaults of vocabulary, alive again, and giving life: once again the heart distills them.

Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?