Writers know that sometimes things are there in the drawer for decades before they finally come out and you are capable of writing about them.

Where man had been, in every place he left, garbage remained. Even in his pursuit of the ultimate truth and quest for his God, he produced garbage. By his garbage, which lay stratum upon stratum, he could always - one had only to dig - be known. For more long-lived than man is his refuse. Garbage alone lives after him.

Granted: I AM an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight; there's a peep-hole in the door, and my keeper's eye is the shade of brown that can never see through a blue-eyed type like me.

[To be an artist,] this desire to conquer all with images.

If Jesus had been a hunchback, they could hardly have nailed him to the cross.

Believing: it means believing in our own lies. And I can say that I am grateful that I got this lesson very early.

Often I had to imagine the things I needed. I learned very early to read amidst noise. And so I started writing and drawing at an early age.