The Plastic Virtues: Purity, Unity, And Truth,

I Hate Artists Who Are Not Of Their Time.

A Structure Becomes Architectural, And Not Sculptural, When Its Elements No Longer Have Their Justification In Nature.

One Day/ One Day I Waited For Myself/ I Said To Myself Guillaume It's Time You Came/ So I Could Know Just Who I Am/ I Who Know Others.

Color Is The Fruit Of Life.

It's Raining My Soul, It's Raining, But It's Raining Dead Eyes.