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On the sixth day, God created the artist, realizing no doubt that He had far from exhausted the uses of color.

Robert Breault

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Robert Breault
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Life is a process by which a few desperate longings morph into a thousand meaningless wants.
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In the realist, you have the sorry sight of the five senses deprived of their imagination.
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You will not find a soulmate in the quiet of your room. You must go to a noisy place and look in the quiet corners.
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It is a shame to see in the work of an artist the limitations of his critics.
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You can accept reality, or you can persist in your purpose until reality accepts you.
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In the end the reason for anything is inseparable from the reason for everything.
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Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don't fool.
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Eventually you realize that not all opposing viewpoints come from people who oppose you.
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Eventually, if you're lucky in life, you find someone with the same chemical imbalance you have.
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Sometimes, to pursue a new idea, the artist must forfeit his deposit on an old idea.
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Dancing is moving to the music without stepping on anyone's toes, pretty much the same as life.
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I am not your dog, but if every time you saw me, you gave me a backrub, I would run to greet you, too.
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It's hard, sometimes, when nothing's stopping you, to know what's stopping you.
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In every gardener there is a child who believes in The Seed Fairy.
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Does a rose exist that I might behold it? Or do I exist that a rose might be beheld?
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