Museums Are Tombs, And It Looks Like

Questions About Form Seem As Hopelessly Inadequate As Questions About Content.

Painting, Sculpture And Architecture Are Finished, But The Art Habit Continues.

Banal Words Function As A Feeble Phenomena That Fall Into Their Own Mental Bogs Of Meaning.

The Scenic Ideals That Surround Even Our National Parks Are Carriers Of A Nostalgia For Heavenly Bliss And Eternal Calmness.

The Museums And Parks Are Graveyards Above The Ground- Congealed Memories Of The Past That Act As A Pretext For Reality.