History is representational, while time is abstract; both of these artifices may be found in museums, where they span everybody's own vacancy

The memory of what is not may be better than the amnesia of what is.

Nature does not proceed in a straight line, it is rather a sprawling development.

The scenic ideals that surround even our national parks are carriers of a nostalgia for heavenly bliss and eternal calmness.

Banal words function as a feeble phenomena that fall into their own mental bogs of meaning.

Questions about form seem as hopelessly inadequate as questions about content.

The museum spreads its surfaces everywhere, and becomes an untitled collection of generalizations that mobilize the eye.