The painting of tomorrow will use the photographic eye as it has used the human eye.

I demand that my books be judged with utmost severity, by knowledgeable people who know the rules of grammar and of logic, and who will seek beneath the footsteps of my commas the lice of my thought in the head of my style.

Yes, I read. I have that absurd habit. I like beautiful poems, moving poetry, and all the beyond of that poetry. I am extraordinarily sensitive to those poor, marvelous words left in our dark night by a few men I never knew.

For each man there awaits... a particular image capable of annihilating the entire universe.

Light is meaningful only in relation to darkness, and truth presupposes error. It is these mingled opposites which people our life, which make it pungent, intoxicating. We only exist in terms of this conflict, in the zone where black and white clash.

Reality is the apparent absence of contradiction. The marvelous is the eruption of contradiction within the real.

The painting of tomorrow will use the photographic eye as it has used the human eye.