While all other sciences have advanced, that of government is at a standstill - little better understood, little better practiced now than three or four thousand years ago.
I wanted to kill art for myself. . . . a new thought for that object.
Art is like a shipwreck; it's every man for himself.
Art is not about itself but the attention we bring to it.
I have drawn people's attention to the fact that art is a mirage. A mirage, just like the oasis that appears in the desert. It is very beautiful, until the moment when you die of thirst, obviously. But we do not die of thirst in the field of art. The mirage has substance.
To all appearances the artist acts like a mediumistic being who, from the labyrinth beyond time and space, seeks his way out to a clearing. If we give the attributes of a medium to the artist, we must then deny him the state of consciousness on the aesthetic plane about what he is doing or why he is doing it. All this decisions in the artistic execution of the work rest with pure intuition and cannot be translated into a self-analysis, spoken or written, or even thought out.
I believe that a picture, a work of art, lives and dies just as we do.
I don't want an elderly gentleman from Vienna with an umbrella inflicting his dreams upon me.
A winner never stops trying.
The camera makes everyone a tourist in other people's reality, and eventually in one's own.
Our Grub-street biographers watch for the death of a great man like so many undertakers on purpose to make a penny of him.