Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.

The hare of history once more overtakes the tortoise of art.

Rumfoord had known that Constant would try to debase the picture by using it in commerce. Constant's father had done a similar thing when he found he could not buy Leonardo's "Mona Lisa" at any price. The old man had punished Mona Lisa by having her used in an advertising campaign for suppositories. It was the free-enterprise way of handling beauty that threatened to get the upper hand.

The arts put man at the center of the universe, whether he belongs there or not.

My soul didn’t know what kind of picture to paint, but my meat sure did.

Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sakes. Now, I mean, I'm talking about singing in the shower, I'm talking about dancing to the radio, I'm talking about writing a poem to a friend--a lousy poem.

I thought Karabekean with his meaningless pictures had entered into a conspiracy with millionaires to make poor people feel stupid

Sculptors feel that somebody else is using their hands, that they couldn’t possibly be doing this.

what you respond to in any work of art is the artist's struggle against his or her limitations