I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.
To my mind, a picture should be something pleasant, cheerful, and pretty, yes pretty! There are too many unpleasant things in life as it is without creating still more of them.
Art is about emotion; if art needs to be explained it is no longer art.
One morning, one of us ran out of the black, it was the birth of Impressionism.
The pain passes, but the beauty remains.
Why shouldn’t art be pretty? There are enough unpleasant things in the world.
One must from time to time attempt things that are beyond one's capacity.
A book is the only place in which you can examine a fragile thought without breaking it, or explore an explosive idea without fear it will go off in your face. It is one of the few havens remaining where a man's mind can get both provocation and privacy.
Whenever I feel nervous, I feel like I have to poop.
Good and evil, right and wrong were invented for the ordinary average man, the inferior man, because he needs them.
Two generations ago only a few unfortunate children ever saw anyone hit over the head with a brick, shot, rammed by a car, blown up, immolated, raped or tortured. Now all children, along with their elders, see such images every day of their lives and are expected to enjoy them. . . . The seven-year-old who hides his eyes in the family cops-and-robbers drama is desensitized four years later to a point where he crunches potato chips through the latest video nasty.