History is representational, while time is abstract; both of these artifices may be found in museums, where they span everybody's own vacancy.

Museums are tombs, and it looks like everything is turning into a museum.

Art history is less explosive than the rest of history, so it sinks faster into the pulverized regions of time.

The museums and parks are graveyards above the ground- congealed memories of the past that act as a pretext for reality.

Brant had said my embellishing constituted a disservice to history and its players. But I believed the opposite. Marooning them on the forlorn island of Only What We Know, a place whose boundaries were determined by the scant information provided by a handful of surviving documents, seemed the greater disservice. I paid homage with my imagination, and hoped I might get visitors to do the same.

Cultural confinement takes place when a curator imposes his own limits on an art exhibition, rather than asking an artist to set his limits.