Odd, isn't it? He really was the right man for her in a sort of way; but then as you know, it is a law of love that the so-called 'right' person always comes to soon or too late.

Whatever the heart desires, it purchases at the cost of soul

I see artists as a great battalion moving through paint, words, music towards cosmological interpretation.

I don’t believe one reads to escape reality. A person reads to confirm a reality he knows is there, but which he has not experienced.

Everything really desirable has come about because of, or in spite of, wine!

We are the children of our landscape; it dictates behavior and even thought in the measure to which we are responsive to it.

Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will-whatever we may think.