I do believe very much in the idea of unexpected or "convulsive" beauty - beauty in the service of liberty.

I always try to be alert to the potential for repetition, for a decaying orbit with regard to my use of technique, etc.

An inordinate love of ritual can be harmful to the soul, unless, of course, in times of great crisis, when ritual can protect the soul from fracture.

Nothing that lived and breathed was truly objective—even in a vacuum, even if all that possessed the brain was a self-immolating desire for the truth.

But what if you discover that the price of purpose is to render invisible so many other things?

Some questions will ruin you if you are denied the answer long enough.

When we wake, it is because something, some event, some pinprick even, disturbs the edges of what we’ve taken as reality.