Nature is never finished.

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.

To insult someone we call him "bestial." For deliberate cruelty and nature, "human" might be the greater insult.

Vegetation is the basic instrument the creator uses to set all of nature in motion.

The gross heathenism of civilization has generally destroyed nature, and poetry, and all that is spiritual.

I'm inspired by nature. Other artist's work is important for developing my perception.

There were no temples or shrines among us save those of nature.

All men are by nature equal, made all of the same earth by one Workman; and however we deceive ourselves, as dear unto God is the poor peasant as the mighty prince.

Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.

Thus first of all in His own person He sanctified, restored, and blessed human nature.

Consistency is found in that work whose whole and detail are suitable to the occasion. It arises from circumstance, custom, and nature.

It was he who impressed, time and again, the necessity of singing as nature intended, and - I remember - he constantly warned, don't let the public know that you work. So I went slowly. I never forced the voice.

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.

What motivates me in art is the ugly and beautiful nature of the truth. It has to be truthful and honest, even if it is ugly and grotesque.

I was 48-years old before anybody talked me into it for medicinal purposes, instead of some of these drugs that they give you that will lead you to heart surgery and things of that nature.