Our feelings may not be sincere, but our feelings about our feelings always are.
Religion, art, taste, and other delusions.
Cool has always been good’s implacable enemy.
People who like sports say a lot more intelligent things about sports than people who like art say about art.
The world has so many bad artists and so few good garbagemen.
It is odd that there is so much talk of genius, when geniuses deny that it exists, and the rest of us wouldn’t know.
There are abusers of art, as there are abusers of alcohol, for much the same reasons, and with much the same effects.
To have taste is to have too much confidence in it.
Our thirst for narrative makes saints of reformed sinners, and reformed sinners of saints.
Sometimes we imagine things into existence, more often out of it.
Every good performance artist is known as something else.