Wherever I See Some Mystique, Be It

A Universal Style Is One That Knows How To Embrace Lovingly Those Not Quite Developed.

Any Artist Who Respects Himself Ought To Be, And In Every Sense Of The Term, An Emigre.

Man Is Profoundly Dependent On The Reflection Of Himself In Another Man's Soul, Be It Even The Soul Of An Idiot.

It Is In The Prime Of Youth That Man Sinks Into Empty Phrases And Grimaces. It's In This Smithy That Our Maturity Is Forged.

Not Surprisingly, Because Too Much Attention To One Object Leads To Distraction, This One Object Conceals Everything Else, And When We Focus On One Point On The Map We Know That All Other Points Are Eluding Us.