... art is images you carry. You cannot carry nature with you, but you carry images of nature. When you go out to make a picture you find you are moved by something which is in agreement with an image you already held within yourself.

Art and accident are one.

Some speak of a return to nature, I wonder where they could have been?

Life itself is not the reality. We are the ones who put life into stones and pebbles.

Everything is shared by everything else; there are no discontinuities.

Art is the splendor of reality before everything has become meaning.

The coherent way of investigating any field is to examine its possible relatedness to other things.