“I am for an art that is political-erotical-mystical, that does something other than sit on its ass in a museum. … I am for the art of underwear and the art of taxicabs. I am for the art of ice cream cones dropped on concrete. … I am for an art that takes its forms from the lines of life itself, that twists and extends and accumulates and spits and drips and is heavy and coarse and blunt and sweet and stupid as life itself.” — Claes Oldenburg