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.

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 want to thank all the fans for their support over the years. Keep supporting the Knicks, we're moving in the right direction here and we will be exciting to watch and competing against the best in the NBA. Come back to the Garden for those exciting games.

Public opinion polls are rather like children in a garden, digging things up all the time to see how they're growing.

Americans admire a people who can scratch a desert and produce a garden. The Israelis have shown qualities that Americans identify with: guts, patriotism, idealism, a passion for freedom. I have seen it. I know. I believe that.

Do you know that charming part of our country which has been called the garden of France - that spot where, amid verdant plains watered by wide streams, one inhales the purest air of heaven?

So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf, to make an apple-pie; and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up the street, pops its head into the shop. 'What! no soap?' So he died, and she very imprudently married the barber.

If there is to be any hope of prosperity for this country it is by reversing that policy which made us simply the kitchen garden for supplying the British with cheap food.

There may be fairies at the bottom of the garden. There is no evidence for it, but you can't prove that there aren't any, so shouldn't we be agnostic with respect to fairies?

With a few flowers in my garden, half a dozen pictures and some books, I live without envy.

God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.

There's always the hyena of morality at the garden gate, and the real wolf at the end of the street.

The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul.

I wake up some mornings and sit and have my coffee and look out at my beautiful garden, and I go, 'Remember how good this is. Because you can lose it.'

A garden is to be a world unto itself, it had better make room for the darker shades of feeling as well as the sunny ones.