“If I took a candy bar, ripped off the wrapper, ate the candy bar, and pinned the wrapper to the wall, is that art, performance art, both, or neither?”
“Are you out of your candy wrapper?”
“You can keep a piece of candy in its wrapper for up to twenty years. After that, it turns into a hideous black goo.”
“I thought I was eating a candy bar, but it turned out to be a yummy burrito. I was both disappointed and appointed at the same time.”
“I’d run 26.2 miles to eat a Marathon candy bar.”
“I remembered my New Orleans days, living on two five-cent candy bars a day for weeks at a time in order to have leisure to write. But starvation, unfortunately, didn't improve art. It only hindered it. A man's soul was rooted in his stomach. A man could write much better after eating a porterhouse steak and drinking a pint of whiskey than he could ever write after eating a nickel candy bar. The myth of the starving artist was a hoax.”