There's No Such Thing As A Grown

An Art Book Is A Museum Without Walls.

Athirst For Personal Salvation, The West Forgets That Many Religions Had But A Vague Notion Of The Life Beyond The Grave; True, All Great Religions Stake A Claim On Eternity, But Not Necessarily On Man's Eternal Life.

The Great Mystery Is Not That We Should Have Been Thrown Down Here At Random Between The Profusion Of Matter And That Of The Stars; It Is That From Our Very Prison We Should Draw, From Our Own Selves, Images Powerful Enough To Deny Our Own Nothingness.

The Ordinary Man Puts Up A Struggle Against All That Is Not Himself, Whereas It Is Against Himself, In A Limited But All-essential Field, That The Artist Has To Battle.

As For The Outside World, The Artist Is Confronted By What He Sees; But What He Sees Is Primarily What He Looks At.