Imagine it's 1981. You're an artist in love with art smitten with art history. You're also a woman with almost no mentors to look to art history just isn't that into you. Any woman approaching art history in the early eighties was attempting to enter an almost foreign country a restricted and exclusionary domain that spoke a private language.

Megacollectors suppose they can enter art history by spending astronomical amounts.

History repeats itself but the special call of an art which has passed away is never reproduced. It is as utterly gone out of the world as the song of a destroyed wild bird.

I like it when somebody tells me a story and I actually really feel that that's becoming like a lost art in American cinema.

There are worlds of experience beyond the world of the aggressive man beyond history and beyond science. The moods and qualities of nature and the revelations of great art are equally difficult to define we can grasp them only in the depths of our perceptive spirit.

All humanity is passion without passion religion history novels art would be ineffectual.

History develops art stands still.

Passion is universal humanity. Without it religion history romance and art would be useless.

The history of modern art is also the history of the progressive loss of art's audience. Art has increasingly become the concern of the artist and the bafflement of the public.

The history of art is the history of revivals.