Art Like Life Is An Open Secret.

The Sense Of Truth No Matter How Subjective Is Necessary For The Experience Of Beauty.

It’s Only With Great Vulgarity That You Can Achieve Real Refinement, Only Out Of Bawdry That You Can Get Tenderness.

I Am Quite Alone. I Am Neither Happy Nor Unhappy; I Lie Suspended Like A Hair Or A Feather In The Cloudy Mixtures Of Memory.

For Us Artists There Waits The Joyous Compromise Through Art With All That Wounded Or Defeated Us In Daily Life; In This Way, Not To Evade Destiny, As The Ordinary People Try To Do, But To Fulfil It In Its True Potential - The Imagination.

All Artists Today Are Expected To Cultivate A Little Fashionable Unhappiness.