When it was suggested that I write a memoir I said, 'I'm not old enough. I'm not distinguished enough.' But I went home and sat down to write, and the material for the book just came flooding into my hands.

I think of making love and making art as being very parallel. Even the most amateur attempt can be thrilling.

Apologies are the art of spiritual housekeeping. They help to put and keep our lives in order.

Possibility is far more frightening than impossibility.

Money cannot fill an empty soul.

Some people find it easier to picture the stream of inspiration as being like radio waves of all sorts being broadcast at all times. With practice, we learn to hear the desired frequency on request. We tune in to the frequency we want.

We waste a lot of time and a lot of talent trying to write for the common reader, whom we will never meet. Instead we should be writing for our ideal reader.