That’s when I first learned that it wasn’t enough to just do your job, you had to have an interest in it, even a passion for it.

but isn't there always one good thing to look back on? think of how many cups of coffee we drank together.

It's possible to love a human being if you don't know them too well.

They looked as if nothing had ever touched them--all well-mothered, protected, with a soft sheen of contentment. None of them had ever been in jail, or worked hard with their hands, or even gotten a traffic ticket. Skimmed-milk jollies, the whole bunch.

I like the way Mahler wandered about in his music and still retained his passion. He must have looked like an earthquake walking down the street.

They have no idea that it can be done by a bus driver, a field hand, or a fry cook. They have no idea where it comes from. It comes from pain, damnation and impossibility. The blow to the soul of the gut. It comes from getting burned and seared and slugged. It comes from...new and awful places and the same old places.

You can steal my women but don't play with my whiskey.