The final test of a painting, theirs, mine, any other, is: do the painter's emotions come across?

If I feel a painting I'm working on doesn't have imagery or emotion, I paint it out and work over it until it does.

Half the world wants to be like Thoreau worrying about the noise of traffic on the way up to Boston; the other half use up their lives being part of that noise. I like the second half.

You instinctively like what you can't do.

If you're a painter, you're not alone. There's no way to be alone.

You paint the way you have to in order to give. That's life itself, and someone will look and say it is the product of knowing, but it has nothing to do with knowing, it has to do with giving.

To be right is the most terrific personal state that nobody is interested in.