Picasso says that an artists paints not to ask a question but because he has found something and he wants to share—he cannot help it—what he has found.

A book comes and says, 'Write me.

What is self-image? Who started talking about one? I rather fancy it was Madison Avenue.

It seemed to travel with her, to sweep her aloft in the power of song, so that she was moving in glory among the stars, and for a moment she, too, felt that the words Darkness and Light had no meaning, and only this melody was real.

When we believe in the impossible, it becomes possible, and we can do all kinds of extraordinary things.

Anger is not bitterness. Bitterness can go on eating at a man's heart and mind forever. Anger spends itself in its own time.

It's a good thing to have all the props pulled out from under us occasionally. It gives us some sense of what is rock under our feet, and what is sand.