The public voice in the theater today is crude and raucous, and, all too often, weak-minded.

I envy paranoids; they actually feel people are paying attention to them.

Interpretation, based on the highly dubious theory that a work of art is composed of items of content, violates art. It makes art into an article for use, for arrangement into a mental scheme of categories.

To the militant, identity is everything.

The aim of all commentary on art now should be to make works of art - and, by analogy, our own experience - more, rather than less, real to us. The function of criticism should be to show how it is what it is, even that it is what it is, rather than to show what it means.

If there can be a better way for the real world to include the one of images, it will require an ecology not only of real things but of images as well.

For those who live neither with religious consolations about death nor with a sense of death (or of anything else) as natural, death is the obscene mystery, the ultimate affront, the thing that cannot be controlled. It can only be denied.