The end of parenthood is implicit in its beginning: separation.

the more visible my work became, the less visible I grew to myself.

There is an appalling amount of mechanical work in the artist's life ... Talent is mysterious, but the qualities that guard, foster, and direct it are not unlike those of a good quartermaster.

I have no home but me.

January is my favorite month, when the light is plainest, least colored. And I like the feeling of beginnings.

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

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.