An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.

I realised the bohemian life was not for me. I would look around at my friends living like starving artists and wonder 'Where's the art?' They weren't doing anything. And there was so much interesting stuff to do so much fun to be had... maybe I could even quit renting.

What I've discovered is that in art as in music there's a lot of truth-and then there's a lie. The artist is essentially creating his work to make this lie a truth but he slides it in amongst all the others. The tiny little lie is the moment I live for my moment. It's the moment that the audience falls in love.

Great artists are people who find the way to be themselves in their art. Any sort of pretension induces mediocrity in art and life alike.

Art is only a means to life to the life more abundant. It is not in itself the life more abundant. It merely points the way something which is overlooked not only by the public but very often by the artist himself. In becoming an end it defeats itself.

One of the interesting things here is that the people who should be shaping the future are politicians. But the political framework itself is so dead and closed that people look to other sources like artists because art and music allow people a certain freedom.

Winners have the ability to step back from the canvas of their lives like an artist gaining perspective. They make their lives a work of art - an individual masterpiece.

Being an artist is dragging your innermost feelings out giving a piece of yourself no matter in which art form in which medium.

No great art has ever been made without the artist having known danger.

Perhaps it's good for one to suffer. Can an artist do anything if he's happy? Would he ever want to do anything? What is art after all but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life?