It took me over a couple of months to find the right piece of transparent paper for a section near the centre, on the right side of the Garden of Nebuchadnezzar. When I did find it, it was on a bottle of my wife's toilet water.

I don't believe anyone really likes paint, unless he's tempted to eat it.

Thomson's small oil sketches of the last years palpitate and throb. They are as direct in attack as a punch in the nose.

I make up a set of rules and play within those rules until I win.

Any artist who doesn't think he's the best should quit.

With love I draw what I hate.

I am interested in doing something that cannot be explained.