The work itself has a complete circle of meaning and counterpoint. And without your involvement as a viewer, there is no story.

One cannot set out to make a work that's spiritual. What is a contemporary iconography for the spiritual? Is it some fuzzy space?

A work will only have deep resonance if the kind of darkness I can generate is something that is resident in me already

Red, of course, is the colour of the interior of our bodies. In a way it's inside out, red.

All ideas grow out of other ideas

Artists don't make objects. Artists make mythologies.

If you get a bad review, you take that in your stride.

I think I understand something about space. I think the job of a sculptor is spatial as much as it is to do with form.

One doesn't make art for other people, even though I am very concerned with the viewer

That freedom that Picasso afforded himself, to be an artist in a huge number of ways, seems to be a huge psychological liberation.

We live in a fractured world. I've always seen it as my role as an artist to attempt to make wholeness.

Solitude helps you to convert your time into clarity of purpose.

Dark clouds not only bring thunderstorm, They also bring rain.

Gradually, I realized that the ideas I had embraced and defended blindly all my life represented a singular, and highly radical, point of view. I began to question everything.

If he loves you he will meet your effort.

My ideas come when I least expect it, so I've always got to have a studio nearby or close by somewhere.

One path leads back to this world, to rebirth; one path leads beyond. Your soul stands at a crossword, trying to make a decision, flipping a coin, a nice image for the soul, I think.

He bared his teeth in a happy feral grin. My own personal psycho.

It didn't hurt, did it? When I hit you?" "Sure. Fractured skull. Concussion, the lot..." "But seriously, Kath. No hard feelings, right? I'm awfully sorry. I honestly am.

As areas of knowledge grow, so too do the perimeters of ignorance.

Oh, to be alive in such an age, when miracles are everywhere, and every inch of common air throbs a tremendous prophecy, of greater marvels yet to be.