You can't make either life or art, you have to work in the hole in between, which is undefined. That's what makes the adventure of painting.

There is no reason not to consider the world as one gigantic painting.

You begin with the possibilities of the material.

I don't really trust ideas - especially good ones... Rather, I put my trust in the materials that confront me, because they put me in touch with the unknown.

The only thing that I could get with chance, and I never was able to use it, was that I would end up with something quite geometric or the spirit that I was interested in, indulging in, was gone.

It is neither Art for Art, nor Art against Art. I am for Art, but for Art that has nothing to do with Art. Art has everything to do with life, but it has nothing to do with Art.

I've not been cursed with talent, which could be a great inhibitor.

An empty canvas is full.

The artist's job is to be a witness to his time in history.

I don't think of myself as making art. I do what I do because I want to, because painting is the best way I've found to get along with myself.

Even at this late date, I go into my studio, and I think 'Is this going to be it? Is it the end?' You see, nearly everything terrorizes me. When an artist loses that terror, he's through.

Mockers = Crown Polishers

I was fortunate enough to model, but it was always work for me. It was a way to support myself and finance acting classes.

A flow'ret crushed in the bud, A nameless piece of Babyhood, Was in her cradle-coffin lying; Extinct, with scarce the sense of dying

Whenever there is a cross to be carried by any of Christ’s followers, He always bears the heavy end on His own shoulders.

Ballet Beautiful is really good for me, and it doesn't hurt my back, and it's a way for me to kind of get my heart moving and tone every part of my body.

People are more slanderous from vanity than from malice.

Οur own distrust somewhat justifies the deceit of others.

In a certain state it is indecent to live longer.

Then, as one hand tightened on me and his other ran gently over my hair, I noticed something. He didn't smell right.

Reality is a question of perspective; the further you get from the past, the more concrete and plausible it seems - but as you approach the present, it inevitably seems more and more incredible.