There's art that I would readily buy if I could afford it, and enjoy, but would never write about because it doesn't seem significant.

You could say that clinical depression is an incapacity to aesthetic response. It's like there's a constant agreement within ourselves, a kind of mutual understanding between ourselves and the world.

It's possible I am the only art critic that a lot of people read. And maybe Robert Hughes, if he's still writing.

A lot of writers and artists are like chefs who eat their own cooking in the kitchen and then deliver an empty plate with assurances that it's great.

There is an ineffable but fatal difference in attitude between people behaving naturally and people behaving naturally for a camera.

To me, the greatest artists are almost entirely non-verbal.

There's art that I would readily buy if I could afford it, and enjoy, but would never write about because it doesn't seem significant.