To devote yourself to the creation and enjoyment of beauty, then, can be a serious business-not always necessarily a means of escaping reality, but sometimes a means of holding on to the real when everything is flaking away into... rhetoric and plot.

Soon you start craving that intense attention with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld you probably turn sick, crazy and depleted not to mention resentful of the dealer who encourage this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore despite that you know that he has it hidden somewhere God dammit because you know that he used to give it to you for free.

I equal parts loved him and could not stand him. I couldn't wake him to share in my distress.

I have a rigid self-accountability. You have to work hard.

Beauty is not required. Beauty is accuracy's distraction.

I've never seen any life transformation that didn't begin with the person in question finally getting tired of their own bullshit.

you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart, instead.