Without freedom, no art; art lives only on the restraints it imposes on itself, and dies of all others.

Without freedom, no art; art lives only on the restraints it imposes on itself, and dies of all others.

Colors that blend with the brick and the dark waters of the city's canals - greens, browns and the strong read more

Colors that blend with the brick and the dark waters of the city's canals - greens, browns and the strong shade of oxblood that is known as Bruges red.

You study, you learn, but you guard the original naivete. It has to be within you, as desire for drink read more

You study, you learn, but you guard the original naivete. It has to be within you, as desire for drink is within the drunkard or love is within the lover.

A painting in a museum hears more ridiculous opinions than anything else in the world.

A painting in a museum hears more ridiculous opinions than anything else in the world.

The buttocks are the most aesthetically pleasing part of the body because they are non-functional. Although they conceal an essential read more

The buttocks are the most aesthetically pleasing part of the body because they are non-functional. Although they conceal an essential orifice, these pointless globes are as near as the human form can ever come to abstract art.

Art is Man's nature. Nature is God's art.

Art is Man's nature. Nature is God's art.

The artist is the opposite of the politically minded individual, the opposite of the reformer, the opposite of the idealist.

The artist is the opposite of the politically minded individual, the opposite of the reformer, the opposite of the idealist.

I'm the artist formally known as Beck. I have a genius wig. When I put that wig on, then the read more

I'm the artist formally known as Beck. I have a genius wig. When I put that wig on, then the true genius emerges. I don't have enough hair to be a genius. I think you have to have hair going everywhere.

The artist one day falls through a hole in the brambles, and from that moment he is following the dark read more

The artist one day falls through a hole in the brambles, and from that moment he is following the dark rapids of an underground river which may sometimes flow so near to the surface that the laughing picnic parties are heard above.