July 13, 1954 was the most tragic day of my life. I had lost my beloved Frida forever. To late now I realized that the most wonderful part of my life had been my love for Frida.

Every good composition is above all a work of abstraction. All good painters know this. But the painter cannot dispense with subjects altogether without his work suffering impoverishment.

An artist is above all a human being, profoundly human to the core. If the artist can't feel everything that humanity feels, if the artist isn't capable of loving until he forgets himself and sacrifices himself if necessary, if he won't put down his magic brush and head the fight against the oppressor, then he isn't a great artist.

My cubist paintings are my most Mexican.

To be an artist, one must . . . never shirk from the truth as he understands it, never withdraw from life

As an artist I have always tried to be faithful to my vision of life, and I have frequently been in conflict with those who wanted me to paint not what I saw but what they wished me to see.

If I ever loved a woman, the more I loved her, the more I wanted to hurt her. Frida was only the most obvious victim of this disgusting trait.

The artist must try to raise the level of taste of the masses, not debase himself to the level of unformed and impoverished taste.

Never before had a woman put such agonizing poetry on canvas as Frida did

Through her paintings, she breaks all the taboos of the woman's body and of female sexuality.