In the alluvial sweep of the land, I thought I could see the past and the present and the future all at once, as though time were not sequential in nature but took place without a beginning or an end, like a flash of green light rippling outward from the center of creation, not unlike a dream inside the mind of God.

If we break promises to God, shouldn't we be allowed an occasional violation of our word to our friends and superiors?

How do you explain to yourself the casual manner in which you threw your life away?

Don't let anyone tell you that age purchases your freedom from fear of death.

Every rejection is incremental payment on your dues that in some way will be translated back into your work.

Age is a clever thief. It takes a little from you each day, so you're not aware of your loss until it'd irreversible.

Never read bad stuff if you're an artist; it will impair your own game. I don't know if you ever played competitive tennis, but you learn not to watch bad tennis; it messes up your game. Art's the same way.