There is always, in the fine arts, a physical interface between the artist's esthetic vision and the material result he seeks. The interface may be the application of brush to canvas, chisel to marble, bow to string... It may be the control of voice in song or the control of body in dance. It is the mastery of the interface that comprises the artistry; it is what constitutes the 'art' in fine art.

Most people would rather defend to the death your right to say it than listen to it.

It is not that love is blind. It is that love sees with a painter's eye, finding the essence that renders all else background.

There is a strong chance that siblings who turn out well were hassled by the same parents.

One's dream is defeated not by unsolvable problems, but by all the more-or-less satisfactory solutions that kill it forever.

I guess, when you get down to it, a loving touch compensates for an unskilled hand about everywhere except in an airplane cockpit.

Love may be blind, but if you've ever known a blind person, they still know where everything is.