The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night?

But however good you get at translating personality into line or paint it's no go if your personality isn't worth translating.

You put up with your voice and speak with it because you haven't any choice. But it's what you say that counts.

The diary will really try and tell people who you are and what you were. The alternative is writing nothing, or creating a totally lifeless, as it is leafless, garden.

Love is the mystery between two people, not the identity.

I am infinitely strange to myself.

There are two kinds of hangover: in one you feel ill and incapable, in the other you feel ill and lucid.