Charles Saatchi

There are no hidden depths to me.

I have spent too long being able to manipulate the answers I want from market research to rely upon its findings any more than I do weather forecasts.

Many people cycle or swim to keep trim. But if swimming is so good for the figure, how do you explain whales?

If, like me, you have many reasons to be less than secure and self-assured, and like me, you are far from stable even on your best days, don't for a moment imagine a psychotherapist will be of more help than a physiotherapist.

Few people in contemporary art demonstrate much curiosity. The majority spend their days blathering on, rather than trying to work out why one artist is more interesting than another, or why one picture works and another doesn't.

I don't like clothes shopping and trying on outfits in stuffy cubicles in men's shops, looking hideous in the wrap-round mirrors, is something I attempt as seldom as possible.

I find the theatre faintly embarrassing for the actors performing on stage. It seems rather showy-off in an undignified way.

I may not be much good at most things, but if I didn't have the pleasure of planning and installing shows, and doing it better than anyone else, I would have stopped buying art many years ago.

I have asked to have no funeral, and no memorial service. I hate other people's and would certainly not appreciate my own.

I spoil my children rotten and hope to leave them enough so they can do the same to theirs.

I have made so many mistakes, and such really stupid ones, I would start blubbing away if I could remember even half of them. But do not dwell on cock-ups, I say. You don't learn by your mistakes - at least I don't - so best to blunder on making fresh ones.

I have never cared enough about money to worry about spending it, and have been fortunate to make enough to be spoiled rotten.

I can't write. I can handle bits of simple-minded advert copy or a poster slogan, so answering questions is about all I'm good for.

Artists need a lot of collectors, all kinds of collectors, buying their art.

By and large, talent is in such short supply that mediocrity can be taken for brilliance rather more than genius can go undiscovered.

My dark little secret is that I don't actually believe many people in the art world have much feeling for art.

I don't know very many people in the art world, only socialise with the few I like, and have little time to gnaw my nails with anxiety about any criticism I hear about.

Artistic credentials are au courant in the important business of being seen as cultured, elegant and, of course, stupendously rich.

I've heard that almost all the people crowding around the big art openings barely look at the work on display and are just there to hobnob. Nothing wrong with that, except that none of them ever come back to look at the art - but they will tell everyone, and actually believe, that they have seen the exhibition.

I don't buy art just to make artists happy any more than I want to make them sad if I sell their work.