Early on I was very involved with the notion of the painting as an object and tended to attack that idea from different directions.

As one gets older one sees many more paths that could be taken. Artists sense within their own work that kind of swelling of possibilities, which may seem a freedom or a confusion.

Bend color names which should be made of neon or copper tubing. Place an object on a surface - trace the object - then bend the object - leaving some part of it attached.

To be an artist you have to give up everything, including the desire to be a good artist.

Take an object. Do something to it. Do something else to it.

One night I dreamed that I painted a large American flag, and the next morning I got up and I went out and bought the materials to begin it.

When something is new to us, we treat it as an experience. We feel that our senses are awake and clear. We are alive.

I assumed that everything would lead to complete failure, but I decided that didn't matter – that would be my life.

One works without thinking how to work.

It's simple, you just take something and do something to it, and then do something else to it. Keep doing this, and pretty soon you've got something.

Art is either a complaint or appeasement.

True love is taking the risk that it won't be a happily-ever-after. True love is joining hands with the man who loves you for who you are, and saying, "I'm not afraid to believe in you.

whatever beauty she thought she might have possessed she realized had only been through her husband's assessment of her

‎The party that leans upon the workers but serves the bourgeoisie, in the period of the greatest sharpening of the class struggle, cannot but sense the smells wafted from the waiting grave.

Why is it when we talk to God we are said to be praying and when God talks to us we're said to be schizophrenic?

If you tell people that they have what it takes to succeed, they'll prove you right

We are born spiritual creatures, with a body to feel and a mind, to fathom the unknowable.

Halloween wraps fear in innocence, as though it were a lightly sour sweet. Let terror, then, be turned into a treat.

If you pay close attention to each day, you will discover the magic moment.

I got everything from someone. Nobody can be original.

Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing?