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1. black
2. grey
3. blue
4. red
5. brown
6. white

I don’t know if I work in order to do something, or in order to know why I can’t do what I want to do.

Alberto Giacometti

Related Topics

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  The form is always the measure of the obsession.

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  Art is the residue of vision.

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  Failure is my best friend. If I succeeded, it would be like dying. Maybe worse.

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  The more I work, the more I see things differently, that is, everything gains in grandeur every day, becomes more and more unknown, more and more beautiful. The closer I come, the grander it is, the more remote it is.

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  Once the object has been constructed, I have a tendency to rediscover in it, transformed and displaced, images, impressions, facts which have deeply moved me (often without my knowing it).

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  I’ve been fifty thousand times to the Louvre. I have copied everything in drawing, trying to understand.

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  In every work of art the subject is primordial, whether the artist knows it or not. The measure of the formal qualities is only a sign of the measure of the artist’s obsession with his subject; the form is always in proportion to the obsession.

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  Whores are the most honest girls. They present the bill right away.

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  In a burning building I would save a cat before a Rembrandt.

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  If only someone else could paint what I see, it would be marvellous, because then I wouldnt have to paint at all.

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  I don’t know who I am or who I was. I know it less than ever. I do and I don’t identify myself with myself. Everything is totally contradictory, but maybe I have remained exactly as I was as a small boy of twelve.

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  Taste for things of the past evolves, doesn’t it? What was a masterpiece a hundred years ago is no longer so today.

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  The human face is as strange to me as a countenance, which, the more one looks at it, the more it closes itself off and escapes by the steps of unknown stairways.

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  The one thing that fills me with enthusiasm is to try, despite everything, to get nearer to those visions that seem so hard to express.

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  All I can do will only ever be a faint image of what I see and my success will always be less than my failure or perhaps equal to the failure.

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  The more you fail, the more you succeed. It is only when everything is lost and – instead of giving up – you go on, that you experience the momentary prospect of some slight progress. Suddenly you have the feeling – be it an illusion or not – that something new has opened up.

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