An Art Book Is A Museum Without

There Are Not Fifty Ways Of Fighting, There's Only One, And That's To Win. Neither Revolution Nor War Consists In Doing What One Pleases.

Here, Reality Is Not Subordinated To Painting, Indeed Painting Seems The Handmaid Of Reality, Though We Feel It Tending Towards A Procedure Which, While Not At The Mercy Of Appearances, Is Not Yet In Conflict With Them.

There's No Such Thing As A Grown Up Person.

To Love A Painting Is To Feel That This Presence Is ... Not An Object But A Voice.

In So Far As He Is A Creator, The Artist Does Not Belong To A Social Group Already Moulded By A Culture, But To A Culture Which He Is By Way Of Building Up.