Paint what you like and die happy

My hunger and curiosity drive me forward in all directions at once.

I struggled in the beginning. I said I was going to write the truth, so help me God. And I thought I was. I found I couldn't. Nobody can write the absolute truth.

Everyman, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths.

I have always looked upon decay as being just as wonderful and rich an expression of life as growth.

Better to separate than never to marry.

I wanted to feel the blood running back into my veins, even at the cost of annihilation. I wanted to shake the stone and light out of my system. I wanted the dark fecundity of nature, the deep well of the womb, silence, or else the lapping of the black waters of death. I wanted to be that night which the remorseless eye illuminated, a night diapered with stars and trailing comets. To be of night so frighteningly silent, so utterly incomprehensible and eloquent at the same time. Never more to speak or to listen or to think.