I have no home but me.

Art comes into the highest part of the mind, that with which we can know the presence of God.

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

In the range of my character at any given moment, I have acted in the only way it seemed to me I could have acted. This in no way means that I have done what was right; only what was possible for me. Sometimes I have done what I knew was wrong, and have rationalized. But rationalization is a form of desperation. It takes kindness to forgive oneself for one's life.

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.

The finest teaching touches in a student a spring neither teacher nor student could possibly have preconceived.