One Cannot Create An Art That Speaks

And When Man Faces Destiny, Destiny Ends And Man Comes Into His Own.

Every Young Man's Heart Is A Graveyard In Which Are Inscribed The Names Of A Thousand Dead Artists But Whose Only Actual Denizens Are A Few Mighty, Often Antagonistic, Ghosts.

Since 1789 History Has Had A New Perspective, Revolution Being A Successful Revolt, And Revolt A Revolution That Has Failed.

Man Knows That The World Is Not Made On A Human Scale; And He Wishes That It Were.

The True Painter Strives To Paint What Can Only Be Seen Through His World.