My work is a game, a very serious game.
Are you really sure that a floor can’t also be a ceiling?
Hands, are the most honest part of the human body, they cannot lie as laughing eyes and the mouth can.
He who wonders discovers that this in itself is wonder.
Science and art sometimes can touch one another, like two pieces of the jigsaw puzzle which is our human life, and that contact may be made across the boderline between the two respective domains.
I can’t keep from fooling around with our irrefutable certainties. It is, for example, a pleasure knowingly to mix up two and three dimensionalities, flat and spatial, and to make fun of gravity.
So let us then try to climb the mountain, not by stepping on what is below us, but to pull us up at what is above us, for my part at the stars; amen.
We adore chaos because we love to produce order.
Wonder is the salt of the earth.
I don’t use drugs, my dreams are frightening enough.
I try in my prints to testify that we live in a beautiful and orderly world, and not in a formless chaos, as it sometimes seems.
What I give form to in daylight is only one per cent of what I have seen in darkness.
As far as I know, there is no proof whatever of the existence of an objective reality apart from our senses, and I do not see why we should accept the outside world as such solely by virtue of our senses.