A Truly Poetic Canvas Is An Awakened

Only Thought Can Resemble. It Resembles By Being What It Sees, Hears, Or Knows; It Becomes What The World Offers It.

Those Who Become Entangled In These False Ideas Are Prevented From Perceiving The Integral Oneness.

No Object Is Stuck With Its Name So Irrevocably That One Cannot Find Another Which Suits It Better.

I Need To See The Original Paintings Just As Little As I Have To Read The Original Manuscripts Of Books.

If One Looks At A Thing With The Intention Of Trying To Discover What It Means, One Ends Up No Longer Seeing The Thing Itself, But Of Thinking Of The Question That Is Raised.