The only thing an artist has to remember is to never lose faith in his vision.

The system shaves the dice on the side of those with money and power, and anyone who believes otherwise deserves anything that happens to him.

And every good artist knows that the gift comes from somewhere else, and it's there for a reason, and that's to make the world a better place.

You do it a day at a time. You just put your rejection slips in a shoebox and tell yourself one day you're going to autograph them and sell them at auction.

Is there a design in the events of our lives? Or do things just happen, much like a junk yard falling down a staircase? If it's the latter, how do you deal with it?

Then the sun broke above the crest of the hills and the entire countryside looked soaked in blood, the arroyos deep in shadow, the cones of dead volcanoes stark and biscuit-colored against the sky. I could smell pinion trees, wet sage, woodsmoke, cattle in the pastures, and creek water that had melted from snow. I could smell the way the country probably was when it was only a dream in the mind of God.

My experience has been that people who die for causes have few friends in death.