There was one reviewer from the 'New York Times,' I forget his name, who said I was 'death warmed over.' I wrote him back that I knew more about death than he did. The 'Times' fired him, put him in the cooking department!
I was on a panel with Marshall McLuhan in Canada. Someone says, 'Mr. McLuhan, I read your book, and I disagree with you.' And he says, 'Oh, you read my book? Then you only know half the story.'
The very, very beginning is that my mother and father were aviators.
I painted the Astor-Victoria sign seven times, and it's 395 feet wide and 58 feet high. I dropped a gallon of purple paint on Seventh Avenue and 47th Street from 15 stories up and didn't kill anybody. I dropped a brush at Columbus Circle. It fell on a guy's camel-hair coat.
People can remember their childhood, but events from four or five years ago are in a never-never land.
I think of my actions every day: what seems to be important and what isn't.
I used to know Madison Avenue advertisers. I didn't like 'em. Bunch of jerks.
I hate getting old, but I'm sticking with it!
I painted billboards above every candy store in Brooklyn.
The automobile crash was... devastating in ways that I still cannot really bear to think about... It took me many years to recover. In some ways, I never have.