It is tragic that Howard Hughes had to die to prove that he was alive.
Any blockhead can arrange a sublet. All I ever wanted was to support myself on art.
As if goaded by a kind of frantic despair, I sketched these dirty, ragged little victims of the war with their bruised, lacerated minds and bodies, their matted hair and runny noses. Here my life as a painter began in earnest.
People don't buy lady art.
Nobody could paint eyes like El Greco and nobody can paint eyes like Walter Keane.