the capacity to work feeds on itself and has its own course of development. This is what artists have going for them.

Love ... is the honoring of others in a way that grants them the grace of their own autonomy and allows mutual discovery.

I never decided at all to be an artist; being an artist seems to have happened to me.

It is ultimately character that underwrites art.

The art of being officially old seems to lie in cooperative submission.

I've struggled all my life to get maximum meaning in the simplest possible form.

artists often lie behind on the field long after the art combine, the broad-bladed harvester of informed criticism, has mowed, bailed, and stored the crop.