Whatever an artist's personal feelings are, as soon as an artist fills a certain area on the canvas or circumscribes it, he becomes historical. He acts from or upon other artists.

The trouble with being poor is that it takes up all your time.

I have to change to stay the same.

The attitude that nature is chaotic and that the artist puts order into it is a very absurd point of view, I think. All that we can hope for is to put some order into ourselves.

I don't paint to live, I live to paint.

What you do when you paint, you take a brush full of paint, get paint on the picture, and you have faith.

The drawings that interest me most are made with closed eyes. With eyes closed, I feel my hand slide down on the paper. I have an image in mind, but the results always surprise me.

It's really absurd to make... a human image, with paint, today, when you think about it... But then all of a sudden, it was even more absurd not to do it.

I might work on a painting for a month, but it has too look like I painted it in a minute.

Spiritually I am wherever my spirit allows me to be, and that is not necessarily in the future... Art never seems to make me peaceful or pure.

Not even for a million dollars would I paint a tree.

Old stories often turn out to be true.

It is such a supreme folly to believe that nuclear weapons are deadly only if they're used.

If you want it and you dream about it...there's nothing that's going to stop you.

Your spirit is the universal voice of love - in you.

Meetings are places where dead ideas rise from their graves and eat the brains of the living.

Before history is written down in books, it is written in courage.

Sadat was a great and good man, and his most bitter and dangerous enemies were people who were obsessed with hatred for his peaceful goals.

I think, like everybody else in New Hampshire, when I pull up to fill up my car and I pay $50, I get upset. And I'm wondering if these prices are legitimate.

I'd harbored hopes that the intelligence that once inhabited novels or films would ingest rock. I was, perhaps, wrong.

I know love and lust don't always keep the same company.