Sometimes when looking through my pile of drawings, I find an image that... awakens in me a passionate desire to inhabit it, as though I were to feel more at home in it than in myself.

No doubt, in complete abstraction one has a feeling of a great shock, if not an explosion, and in approaching the real, one feels health and truth restored.

I understand abstract art as an attempt to feed imagination with a world built through the basic sensations of the eyes.

Art is, from any point of view, the greatest of risks.

A mature artist is at the same time aware of the futility of his achievement and the validity of the pursuit.

The image gets built one way or another... it doesn't get done by following the natural order of things, but arises instead from an order that you have in your mind.

Paul Klee seems to handle colors and dreams as if they both came out of a box of children's toys. He plays and dreams with whatever he finds.

A harmonious combination... enough abstraction that the image is sustained by the eye; enough reality that it is sustained by reason and experience. Share this quote with a friend

All each ism does, in its revolt against the inadequacy of the previous one, is to thoroughly upset the order of terms of this ideal entity and to bring to the fore yet another inadequacy.

Imaginations blossom amidst memories. One judiciously separates them - but is there really any point in that? Doesn't truth suffer when one amputates it from its context of dreams?

You don't dream about angles and surfaces and so on. You dream about women, bread, smokes and trees.

The living word of God is the light for my path.

In your daytime life you have to be more strict.

She wrote to him fairly regularly, from a paradise of triple exclamation points and inaccurate observations.

I'm always nervous when I perform anyway.

I think more about the family now. That's an interesting progression for me.

Any genuine teaching will result, if successful, in someone's knowing how to bring about a better condition of things than existed earlier.

My high school was nothing like West Beverly High, let me tell you. I grew up in Fredericktown, Ohio.

John certainly gives it a good hit, doesn't he? My Sunday best is a Wednesday afternoon compared to him.

There are some things that cannot be expressed through words. And that is why we dance.

The more real you get, the more unreal things get.