The notion of making money by popular work, and then retiring to do good work, is the most familiar of all the devil's traps for artists.
It is through the cracks in our brains that ecstasy creeps in.
I like to walk down Bond Street, thinking of all the things I don't desire.
How it infuriates a bigot, when he is forced to drag out his dark convictions!
If we shake hands with icy fingers, it is because we have burnt them so horribly before.
The test of a vocation is the love of the drudgery it involves.