Frida Kahlo.

I Want to Be Inside Your Darkest Everything.

I Paint Myself Because I Am so Often Alone and Because I Am the Subject I Know Best.

I Tried to Drown My Sorrows, but the Bastards Learned How to Swim, and Now I Am Overwhelmed by This Decent and Good Feeling.

You Deserve the Best, the Very Best, Because You Are One of the Few People in This Lousy World Who Are Honest to Themselves, and That Is the Only Thing That Really Counts.

I Don’t Give a Shit What the World Thinks. I Was Born a Bitch, I Was Born a Painter, I Was Born Fucked. but I Was Happy in My Way. You Did Not Understand What I Am. I Am Love. I Am Pleasure, I Am Essence, I Am an Idiot, I Am an Alcoholic, I Am Tenacious. I Am; Simply I Am … You Are a Shit.

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.

Take a Lover Who Looks at You Like Maybe You Are a Bourbon Biscuit.

The Most Important Thing for Everyone in Gringolandia Is to Have Ambition and Become ‘Somebody,’ and Frankly, I Don’t Have the Least Ambition to Become Anybody.

They Thought I Was a Surrealist, but I Wasn’t. I Never Painted Dreams. I Painted My Own Reality.

I Was Born a Bitch. I Was Born a Painter.

I Am That Clumsy Human, Always Loving, Loving, Loving. and Loving. and Never Leaving.

There Have Been Two Great Accidents in My Life. One Was the Train the Other Was Diego. Diego Was by Far the Worst.

Pain, Pleasure and Death Are No More Than a Process for Existence. the Revolutionary Struggle in This Process Is a Doorway Open to Intelligence.

I Love You More Than My Own Skin.

Traté De Ahogar Mis Penas… Pero Las Condenadas Aprendieron a Nadar.

There Is Nothing More Precious Than Laughter.

No Moon, Sun, Diamond, Hands Fingertip, Dot, Ray, Gauze, Sea. Pine Green, Pink Glass, Eye, Mine, Eraser, Mud, Mother, I Am Coming.

My Painting Carries with It the Message of Pain.

Only One Mountain Can Know the Core of Another Mountain.

They Sit for Hours in the Cafes Warming Their Precious Behinds, and Talk Without Stopping About Culture Art Revolution and so on and so Forth, Thinking Themselves the Gods of the World, Dreaming the Most Fantastic Nonsenses and Poisoning the Air with Theories and Theories That Never Come True.

¿Se Pueden Inventar Verbos? Quiero Decirte Uno: Yo Te Cielo, Así Mis Alas Se Extienden Enormes Para Amarte Sin Medida… Somos De Las Misma Materia, De Las Mismas Ondas…

I Paint Self Portraits Because I Am so Often Alone, Because I Am the Person I Know Best.

I Drank Because I Wanted to Drown My Sorrows. but Now the Damned Things Have Learned to Swim ,and Now Decency and Good Behavior Weary Me.

What I Wanted to Express Very Clearly and Intensely Was That the Reason These People Had to Invent or Imagine Heroes and Gods Is Pure Fear. Fear of Life and Fear of Death.

I Leave You My Portrait so That You Will Have My Presence All the Days and Nights That I Am Away from You.

I Tried to Drown My Sorrows but the Bastards Learned How to Swim.

High Society Here Turns Me off and I Feel a Bit of Rage Against All These Rich Guys Here, Since I Have Seen Thousands of People in the Most Terrible Misery Without Anything to Eat and with No Place to Sleep, That Is What Has Most Impressed Me Here, It Is Terrifying to See the Rich Having Parties Day and Night While Thousands and Thousands of People Are Dying of Hunger… Although I Am Very Interested in All the Industrial and Mechanical Development of the United States, I Find That Americans Completely Lack Sensibility and Good Taste. They Live as If in an Enormous Chicken Coop That Is Dirty and Uncomfortable. the Houses Look Like Bread Ovens and All the Comfort That They Talk About Is a Myth.

Take a Lover Who Looks at You Like Maybe You Are Magic.

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.

It Was Worthwhile to Come Here Only to See Why Europe Is Rottening, Why All This People Good for Nothing Are the Cause of All the Hitlers and Mussolinis

I Am Nauseated by All These Rotten People in Europe and These Fucking Democracies Are Not Worth Even a Crumb.

I Have Not Forgotten You the Nights Are Long and Difficult. You Too Know That All My Eyes See, All Touch with Myself, from Any Distance, Is You. 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 You. You Felt It, That’s Why You Let That Ship Take Me Away from Le Havre Where You Never Said Good Bye to Me. I Will Write to You with My Eyes, Always. for You Is All.

You Deserve a Lover Who Takes Away the Lies and Brings You Hope, Coffee, and Poetry.

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.

This Upper Class Is Disgusting and I’m Furious at All These Rich People Here, Having Seen Thousands of People in Abject Squalor.

My Paintings Are Well Painted, Not Nimbly but Patiently. My Painting Contains in It the Message of Pain. I Think That at Least a Few People Are Interested in It. It’s Not Revolutionary. Why Keep Wishing for It to Be Belligerent? I Can’t. Painting Completed My Life. I Lost Three Children and a Series of Other Things That Would Have Fulfilled My Horrible Life. My Painting Took the Place of All of This. I Think Work Is the Best.

Perhaps It Is Expected That I Should Lament About How I Have Suffered Living with a Man Like Diego. but I Do Not Think That the Banks of a River Suffer Because They Let the River Flow, nor Does the Earth Suffer Because of the Rains, nor Does the Atom Suffer for Letting Its Energy Escape. to My Way of Thinking, Everything Has Its Natural Compensation.