I have been continuously aware that in painting, I am always dealing with... a relational structure. Which in turn makes permission 'to be abstract' no problem at all.

Art is much less important than life, but what a poor life without it.

Art is an experience, not an object.

Walk on a rainbow trail; walk on a trail of song, and all about you will be beauty. There is a way out of every dark mist, over a rainbow trail.

Wherever art appears, life disappears.

Without ethical consciousness, a painter is only a decorator.

Painting is a medium in which the mind can actualize itself; it is a medium of thought. Thus painting, like music, tends to become its own content.

If one were to ask a painter what he felt about anything, his just response - though he seldom makes it - would be to paint it, and in painting, to find out.

Painting that does not radiate feeling is not worth looking at. The deepest-and rarest-of grown-up pleasures is true feeling.

The main thing is not to be dead.

It's not that the creative act and the critical act are simultaneous. It's more like you blurt something out and then analyze it.

Just as heart is a fountain of unspoken words, the universe is a womb of wonder weird worlds.

An infinitely unpleasant fraction of a second is a small price to pay for the opportunity to stride across eternity.

And you don't want to always write about politics just for the sake of writing about politics.

I love fresh flowers for my home. I spend far too much money on them, buying them almost every day.

Compassion is not helpless pity, but an awareness and determination that demands action.

When someone with a rural accent says, "I don't know much about politics," zip up your pockets.

In a band that works out well, everybody has a certain role to fulfill.

The worst of misery Is when a nature framed for noblest things Condemns itself in youth to petty joys, And, sore athirst for air, breathes scanty life Gasping from out the shallows.

I long ago learned that you can't expect people to interpret the songs in the way they had meant for you, as the writer.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if our mind growled like our stomach does when it is hungry?