Adulterers, Take Warning, Never Admit.

If I Were In The Unenviable Position Of Having To Study My Work My Points Of Departure Would Be The "naught Is More Real ..." And The "ubi Nihil Vales ..." Both Already In Murphy And Neither Very Rational.

If I Had The Use Of My Body, I Would Throw It Out The Window.

To Find A Form That Accommodates The Mess, That Is The Task Of The Artist Now.

What Do I Know Of Man's Destiny? I Could Tell You More About Radishes.

The Time Is Perhaps Not Altogether Too Green For The Vile Suggestion That Art Has Nothing To Do With Clarity, Does Not Dabble In The Clear And Does Not Make Clear, And More Than The Light Of Day (or Night) Makes The Subsolar, -lunar, And -stellar Excrement. Art Is The Sun, Moon, And Stars Of The Mind, The Whole Mind.