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

I am for an art that takes into account the direct effect of the elements as they exist from day to day apart from representation.

Artists themselves are not confined, but their output is.

Art's development should be dialectical and not metaphysical.

Nature is never finished.

Mistakes and dead-ends often mean more to these artists than any proven problem.

Language operates between literal and metaphorical signification.

An emotion is suggested and demolished in one glance by certain words.

When a finished work of 20th century sculpture is placed in an 18th century garden, it is absorbed by the ideal representation of the past, thus reinforcing political and social values that are no longer with us.

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

A work of art when placed in a gallery loses its charge, and becomes a portable object or surface disengaged from the outside world.

History is a facsimile of events held together by finally biographical information.

Artists are expected to fit into fraudulent categories.

Parks are idealizations of nature, but nature in fact is not a condition of the ideal.

Objects in a park suggest static repose rather than any ongoing dialectic. Parks are finished landscapes for finished art .

A vacant white room with lights is still a submission to the neutral. Works of art seen in such spaces seem to be going through a kind of esthetic convalescence.

Art history is less explosive than the rest of history, so it sinks faster into the pulverized regions of time.

Visiting a museum is a matter of going from void to void.

Language thus becomes monumental because of the mutations of advertising.

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

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

The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality.

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

Cultural confinement takes place when a curator imposes his own limits on an art exhibition, rather than asking an artist to set his limits.

Words for mental processes are all derived from physical things.

Instead of causing us to remember the past like the old monuments, the new monuments seem to cause us to forget the future.

Abstraction is everybody's zero but nobody's nought.

Some artists imagine they've got a hold on this apparatus, which in fact has got a hold of them. As a result, they end up supporting a cultural prison that is out of their control.

Painting, sculpture and architecture are finished, but the art habit continues.

Language should find itself in the physical world, and not end up locked in an idea in somebody's head.

Language should be an ever developing procedure and not an isolated occurrence.

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

From the top of the quarry cliffs, one could see the New Jersey suburbs bordered by the New York City skyline.

Museums are tombs, and it looks like everything is turning into a museum.

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

Lets face it the human eye is clumsy sloppy and unintelligible when compared to the cameras eye.

I must stress here the point that I appreciate clarity, order, meaning, structure, rationality: they are necessary to whatever provisional stability we have, and they can be the agents of gradual and successful change.

In common use almost every word has many shades of meaning, and therefore needs to be interpreted by the context.

It may be shocking to some people in this country to realize that, without meaning to do so, they hold views in common with Hitler when they preach discrimination against other religious, racial or economic groups.

My life has been a continuous fulfillment of dreams. It appears that everything I saw and did has a new, and perhaps, more significant meaning, every time I see it. The earth is good. It is a privilege to live thereon.

If not for music, I would probably be a very frustrated scientist. It's one way to answer the question, 'What is the meaning of life?' I feel music answers it better.

When I read a book I seem to read it with my eyes only, but now and then I come across a passage, perhaps only a phrase, which has a meaning for me, and it becomes part of me.

I don't ask for the meaning of the song of a bird or the rising of the sun on a misty morning. There they are, and they are beautiful.

But the way people commonly use the word nowadays it means something all of whose parts are mutually interdependent - not only for their mutual action, but for their meaning and for their existence.

The miracle of light pours over the green and brown expanse of saw grass and of water, shining and slowly moving, the grass and water that is the meaning and the central fact of the Everglades. It is a river of grass.

Alabama citizens, like the vast majority of Americans, respect and value the meaning of decency, and appreciate public institutions that reflect the common values of our society.

It is my intention to present - through the medium of photography - intuitive observations of the natural world which may have meaning to the spectators.

I believe that history might be, and ought to be, taught in a new fashion so as to make the meaning of it as a process of evolution intelligible to the young.

Innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.