My blood is a miracle that, from my veins, crosses the air in my heart into yours.

This upper class is disgusting and I'm furious at all these rich people here, having seen thousands of people in abject squalor.

Your word travels the entirety of space and reaches my cells which are my stars then goes to yours which are my light.

Surrealism is the magical surprise of finding a lion in a wardrobe, where you were 'sure' of finding shirts.

Really, I do not know whether my paintings are surrealist or not, but I do know that they are the frankest expression of myself.

I hope the leaving is joyful; and I hope never to return.

The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to.

I paint flowers so they will not die.

I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best.

Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.

Since my subjects have always been my sensations, my states of mind and the profound reactions that life has been producing in me, I have frequently objectified all this in figures of myself, which were the most sincere and real thing that I could do in order to express what I felt inside and outside of myself.

I wanted to tell you that my whole being opened for you. Since I fell in love with you everything is transformed and is full of beauty... love is like an aroma, like a current, like rain.

I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.

You too know that all my eyes see, all I touch with myself, from any distance, is Diego. The caress of fabrics, the color of colors, the wires, the nerves, the pencils, the leaves, the dust, the cells, the war and the sun, everything experienced in the minutes of the non-clocks and the non-calendars and the empty non-glances, is him.

I am that clumsy human, always loving, loving, loving. And loving. And never leaving.

It's not possible to present an accurate picture of our culture without all the voices of the people in the culture. So at the emerging level, you can't have a good survey art show without women and artists of color.

Sexism and racism are parallel problems. You can compare them in some ways, but they're not at all the same. But they're both symptoms inside the white male power structure.

I tried to drown my sorrows but the bastards learned how to swim.

I drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim.

You loved a man with more hands than a parade of beggars, and here you stand. Heart like a four-poster bed. Heart like a canvas. Heart leaking something so strong they can smell it in the street.