Isn't it wonderful to be an artist whose works have mostly been lost?

I grew up in a brick house. What's wrong with bricks? An Englishman took me aside and said, "You have to understand, all the bricklayers in England are Irish, and the English hate the Irish."

What I made depended on what I found on the street. At least in the beginning, my materials came from the street.

That's wonderful, but my mind has been destroyed by alcohol.

Matter as matter rather than matter as symbol is a conscious political position, essentially Marxist.

Isn't it wonderful to be an artist whose works have mostly been lost?

I didn't like men, but I liked women.