Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see.

Life obliges me to do something, so I paint.

Art evokes the mystery without which the world would not exist.

If the dream is a translation of waking life, waking life is also a translation of the dream.

The mind loves the unknown. It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself is unknown.

To be a surrealist means barring from your mind all remembrance of what you have seen, and being always on the lookout for what has never been.

We must not fear daylight just because it almost always illuminates a miserable world.

Only thought can resemble. It resembles by being what it sees, hears, or knows; it becomes what the world offers it.

My painting is visible images which conceal nothing... they evoke mystery and indeed when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question 'What does that mean'? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable.

The present reeks of mediocrity and the atom bomb.