The moment you recognize what is beautiful in this world, you stop being a slave

Iqbal, that great poet, was so right. The moment you recognize what is beautiful in this world, you stop being a slave. To hell with the Naxals and their guns shipped from China. If you taught every poor boy how to paint, that would be the end of the rich in India.

Here's a strange fact: murder a man, and you feel responsible for his life - ''possessive'', even. You know more about him than his father and mother; they knew his fetus, but you know his corpse. Only you can complete the story of his life, only you know why his body has to be pushed into the fire before its time, and why his toes curl up and fight for another hour on earth.

Let animals live like animals; let humans live like humans. That's my whole philosophy in a sentence.

Columbia University, where I went to study in 1993, insisted its undergraduates learn a foreign language, so I discovered French.

A man's past keeps growing, even when his future has come to a full stop.

I am coming back to New York after five years, and it seems that psychics are taking over the city.