I paint my own reality. The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration.

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

I am not sick. I am broken. But I am happy as long as I can paint.

People in general are scared to death of the war and all the exhibition have been a failure, because the rich - don't want to buy anything.

I drank to drown my pain, but the damned pain learned how to swim, and now I am overwhelmed by this decent and good behavior.

They are so damn 'intellectual' and rotten that I can't stand them anymore....I [would] rather sit on the floor in the market of Toluca and sell tortillas, than have anything to do with those 'artistic' bitches of Paris.