Humor Is The Only Reason To Live.

Art Has The Lovely Habit Of Ruining All Artistic Theories.

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.

The Life Of An Artist Is Like The Life Of A Monk, A Lewd Monk If You Like, Very Rabelaisian. It Is An Ordination.

Since The Tubes Of Paint Used By The Artist Are Manufactured And Ready Made Products We Must Conclude That All The Paintings In The World Are 'readymades Aided' And Also Works Of Assemblage.

This Concern Which Interests Us More Than Anything Else: The Blurring Of The Distinction Between Art And Life.