Art Has Absolutely No Existence As Veracity,

Living Is More A Question Of What One Spends Than What One Makes.

To All Appearances, The Artist Acts Like A Mediumistic Being Who, From The Labyrinth Beyond Time And Space, Seeks His Way Out To A Clearing.

All This Twaddle, The Existence Of God, Atheism, Determinism, Liberation, Societies, Death, Etc., Are Pieces Of A Chess Game Called Language, And They Are Amusing Only If One Does Not Preoccupy Oneself With 'winning Or Losing This Game Of Chess.

I Don’t Care About The Word ‘art’ Because It Has Been So Discredited. So I Want To Get Rid Of It. There Is An Unnecessary Adoration Of ‘art’ Today.

The Artist Performs Only One Part Of The Creative Process. The Onlooker Completes It, And It Is The Onlooker Who Has The Last Word.