Artists Are, Above All, Men Who Want

Come To The Edge.' 'we Can't. We're Afraid.' 'come To The Edge.' 'we Can't. We Will Fall!' 'come To The Edge.' And They Came. And He Pushed Them. And They Flew.

I Hate Artists Who Are Not Of Their Time.

Without Artists, The Order Which We Find In Nature, And Which Is Only An Effect Of Art, Would At Once Vanish.

Paint With Whatever Material You Please - With Pipes, Postage Stamps, Postcards Or Playing Cards, Painted Paper, Or Newspapers.

Memories Are Hunting Horns Whose Sound Dies On The Wind.