True love gallops, it flies, it is the swiftest of all modes of thought, swifter even than hate and fear.

evil soon makes tools out of those who don't hate it.

Art is the final cunning of the human soul which would rather do anything than face the gods.

Of course reading and thinking are important but, my God, food is important too.

All artists dream of a silence which they must enter, as some creatures return to the sea to spawn.

The sin of pride may be a small or a great thing in someone's life, and hurt vanity a passing pinprick, or a self-destroying or ever murderous obsession.

There is no beyond, there is only here, the infinitely small, infinitely great and utterly demanding present.