If I'm censoring for anyone, it's for my parents. They are very old-fashioned and moral people. They still don't understand me that well.
You snipe so steady, you snub so snide, so rip and ready to diminish and deride.
I'm irresponsible to my career in order to paint. Because painting is obsessive. I forget to eat. I forget to sleep.
Ira Gershwin, shame on him. I mean, some of the writing.
I still believe in the power of the word, that words inspire.
Nobody understood The Reoccurring Dream, but after September 11, when we were coerced to do a national duty and go out and shop, surely people could begin to see what I was getting at.