I've done the most awful rubbish in order to have somewhere to go in the morning.
The instant I reach Heaven, I'm going to speak to God very sharply.
On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.
The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed (and hence clamorous to be led to safety) by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary.
The demagogue is one who preaches doctrines he knows to be untrue to men he knows to be idiots.
The men the American people admire most extravagantly are the most daring liars; the men they detest most violently are those who try to tell them the truth.
People do not expect to find chastity in a whorehouse. Why, then, do they expect to find honesty and humanity in government, a congeries of institutions whose modus operandi consists of lying, cheating, stealing, and if need be, murdering those who resist?
But I would like to reach the point where I could cut up an illustrated magazine at random and see to it that the parts would each become a painting. I cannot properly explain it right now. Already now I am searching for the most boring and irrelevant photo material that I can find. And I would like to get to the point soon where this determined irrelevance could be retained, in favor of something that would be covered up otherwise by artifice.
I think there is something to being curious about your choices, but not wanting to kind of pierce the bubble of them, because it takes away from the act of discovering.
In the recognition of loving lies the answer to despair.
Ultimately Warhol's private moral reference was to the supreme kitsch of the Catholic church.