We tend to make up the people we fall in love with

A lot of artists don't survive, do they? You work very hard and finally you get what you want and it destroys you.

Everyone knew in the 1950s why a girl from a nice family left home. The meaning of her theft of herself from her parents was clear to all - as well as what she'd be up to in that room of her own.

I was always aware that Jack loved women not only for their bodies but for the stories that came into being as they interacted with him-they were part of his “road,” the infinite range of experience that always had to remain open to fuel his work.

I think art, the discipline of creating, really does require tremendous solitude. But the whole creative process can seal your life to such an extent that while you're creating, you feel very self-sufficient. I've certainly experienced that.

Legend adheres to artists whose deaths seem the corollaries of their works.

We tend to make up the people we fall in love with