History is the gradual instant

To share a hiding place, physical or psychological, is as intimate as love.

When a man dies, his secrets bond like crystals, like frost on a window. His last breath obscures the glass.

The best teacher lodges an intent not in the mind but in the heart.

When you are alone - at sea, in the polar dark - an absence can keep you alive. The one you love maintains your mind. But when she's merely across the city, this is an absence that eats you to the bone.

When you put a tremendous amount of love into your work, as in any relationship, you can't know - you can only hope - that what you're offering will in some way be received. You shape your love to artistic demands, to the rigors of your genre. But still, it's a labor of love, and it's the nature of love that you must give it freely.

Important lessons: look carefully; record what you see. Find a way to make beauty necessary; find a way to make necessity beautiful.