Falling out of love is very enlightening. For a short while you see the world with new eyes.

All art is the struggle to be, in a particular sort of way, virtuous.

What makes you imagine ... that anything of importance can be taught in a school?

Art is brief. (Not in a temporal sense.) [...] Words are for concealment. Art is concealment.

There is a spider called Amaurobius, which lives in a burrow and has its young in the late summer, and then it dies when the frosts begin, and the young spiders live through the cold by eating their mother's dead body. One can't believe that's an accident. I don't know that I imagined God as having thought it all out, but somehow He was connected with the pattern, He was the pattern.

There is no substitute for the comfort supplied by the utterly taken-for-granted relationship.

The best thing about being God would be making the heads.