"What do you think an artist is? An imbocile who only has eyes if he is a painter, or ears if he is a musician, or a lyre at every level of his heart if he is a poet, or even, if he's a boxer, just his muscle? On the contrary, he is at the same time a political being, constantly alive and heartrending, firey, or happy events to which he resonds to in every way. How could it be possible to feel no intrest other people and by virtue of ivory indifference to detatch yourself from the life which they so copiously bring you? No, painting is not done to decorate apartments. It's an instrument of war for attack and defense against the enemy"