Language operates between literal and metaphorical signification.

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.

Still, language is resilient, and poetry when it is pressured simply goes underground.

I have my own language and it's high time I put a little of it out there.

Well, with the French language, which I understood and spoke, however imperfectly, and read in great quantities, at certain times, the matter I suppose was slightly different from either Latin or Greek.

I belong to a specific category of writers, those who speak and write in a language different from that of their parents.

Poetry is a matter of life, not just a matter of language.

Our purpose is simply to ask how theological principles can be shown to have usable secular analogues that throw light upon the nature of language.

Countries under foreign command quickly forget their history, their past, their tradition, their national symbols, their way of living, often their own literary language.

French is a language that makes those who speak it both calm and dynamic.

I have eighteen titles in the German language. I had a number one song in 1965.

That's so different in Hong Kong when I'm using my own mother language, I can treat the line in one thousand different ways, with many different reactions.

The Internet is not just one thing, it's a collection of things - of numerous communications networks that all speak the same digital language.

Of all of our inventions for mass communication, pictures still speak the most universally understood language.

If I were assigned poems I suppose I'd write more of them but it is entirely voluntary and for the most part ignored in the market sense of the word so the language to me is most intimate, most important, most sublime and most satisfying when it gets done.