Art Is Either Plagiarism Or Revolution.

There Are Noble Tones, Ordinary Ones, Tranquil Harmonies, Consoling Ones, Others Which Excite By Their Vigour.

Why Did I Hesitate To Put All This Glory Of The Sun On My Canvas?

Thanks To Our Cinctures And Corsets We Have Succeeded In Making An Artificial Being Out Of Woman. She Is An Anomaly, And Nature Herself, Obedient To The Laws Of Heredity, Aids Us In Complicating And Enervating Her. We Carefully Keep Her In A State Of Nervous Weakness And Muscular Inferiority, And In Guarding Her From Fatigue, We Take Away From Her Possibilities Of Development. Thus Modeled On A Bizarre Ideal Of Slenderness To Which, Strangely Enough, We Continue To Adhere, Our Women Have Nothing In Common With Us, And This, Perhaps, May Not Be Without Grave Moral And Social Disadvantages.

Civilization Is What Makes You Sick.

Seek Art And Abstraction In Nature By Dreaming In The Presence Of It.