There are different kinds of concentration required to make a painting, different kinds of being present.

A good painting has to do about 12 things at once.

I can only think of a handful of artists that can make a funny painting or a funny sculpture without it feeling coined in someway.

I think that painting relates very neatly to inner travel and the exploration of inner worlds. With painting, I always get the impression that you're sort of entering into a shared space.

You have the 20th century wrapping up and everything is moving at this breakneck speed? And then, painting is still walking. It's just a very human activity that takes time.

I think you do kind of slip into a trance when you look at a painting. At least I do.

I think, with abstraction, it's easy to fall into a sort of pastiche.

I think painting has that unique potential to project opposing viewpoints.

Technology's always changing. There was a time where oil painting was a new technology. That changed painting.

Paintings exist in the present tense, yet somehow, because of how it's structured, it can move backwards through time as well.

It's a funny semantic turn - when someone paints a landscape, no one says they "borrowed" it, only that they painted it.

I do not know the answers to life's hard questions, but I do know the One who knows them and that's sufficient...for now.

Grief, my friend, forces us to search our souls and find answers to issues that constrain us from becoming better human beings.

Tomorrow is the next step in life—not the next stop in life.

My goal is not to upset the apple cart, but to make it more accessible.

Nixon had some large achievements in foreign affairs. They will be remembered. But a president probably gets remembered for one thing, and Watergate will head the Nixon list, I suspect.

Soft men tend to be born from soft countries.

Evil can kill a person but never conquer a people.

Tis e'er the lot of the innocent in the world, to fly to the wolf for succor from the lion.

You may see all that is around you But you may feel nothing at all. So try and close your eyes so tight And listen to the night time fall.

O, what damned minutes tells he o'er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet fondly loves!