I am for the art of underwear and the art of taxicabs. I am for the art of ice cream cones dropped on concrete.

I am for an art of things lost or thrown away. . . I am for an art that one smokes like a cigarette. . . I am for an art that flutters like a flag.

For a thorough use of ice cream cones, buy two; eat one and drop the other.

They asked me to do a show, and I was planning on showing my figure paintings. But my friends told me I shouldn't - the paintings were good but a little old-fashioned. They said, "Why don't you show the other stuff?" I had also been making rather strange objects, more in the Freudian tradition.

When you're working with an object, you can put in almost anything you want, you can make it abstract.

Chicago has a strange metaphysical elegance of death about it.

I started to draw buildings. I called them Proposed Colossal Monuments - they weren't for real, not for actual building. It was more a critique of architecture.