I wonder why we are always sort of ashamed of our best parts and try to hide them. We don't mind ridicule of our 'sillinesses' but of our 'sobers'.

Art being so much greater than ourselves, it will not give up once it has taken hold.

The earth is soaked and soggy with rain. Everything is drinking its fill and the surplus gluts the drains. The sky is full of it and lies low over the earth, heavy and dense. Even the sea is wetter than usual!

There was neither horizon, cloud, nor sound; of that pink, spread silence even I had become part, belonging as much to sky as to earth.

Do not try to do extraordinary things but do ordinary things with intensity.

Writing is a strong easement for perplexity. My life is a map, spread out with all the rivers and hills showing.

The artist himself may not think he is religious, but if he is sincere his sincerity in itself is religion.