The mind loves the unknown. It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself is unknown.

The feeling we experience while we look at a picture is not to be distinguished from the picture or from ourselves. the feeling, picture, and ourselves are united in one mystery.

The mind loves the unknown. It loves images whose meaning is unknown, since the meaning of the mind itself is unknown.

Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see, but it is impossible. Humans hide their secrets too well.

The present reeks of mediocrity and the atom bomb.

We must not fear daylight just because it almost always illuminates a miserable world.

My painting is visible images which conceal nothing... they evoke mystery and indeed when one sees one of my pictures, one asks oneself this simple question 'What does that mean'? It does not mean anything, because mystery means nothing either, it is unknowable.