Some of us will probably become famous. It will be an ironic fame fashioned largely by those who have never seen our work.

I am not so sure whether what we do now is art or something not quite art. If I call it art, it is because I wish to avoid the endless arguments some other name would bring forth.

Artist refers to a person, willfully enmeshed in a dilemma of categories, who performs as if none of them existed.

Objects of every sort are materials for the new art: paint, food, chairs, electric and neon lights, smoke, water, old socks, a dog, movies, a thousand other things which will be discovered by the present generation of artists.

A walk down 14th street is more amazing than any masterpiece of art.

This everyday world affects the way art is created as much as it conditions its response.

The line between art and life should be kept as fluid, and perhaps indistinct, as possible.