The concentration of a small child at play is analogous to the concentration of the artist of any discipline. In real play, which is real concentration, the child is not only outside time, he is outside himself.

Death is contagious; it is contracted the moment we are conceived.

The novelist helps us to see things we might not notice otherwise.

you and I have good enough minds to know how very limited and finite they really are. The naked intellect is an extraordinarily inaccurate instrument.

In art we are once again able to do all the things we have forgotten; we are able to walk on water; we speak to the angels who call us; we move, unfettered, among the stars.

There's nothing more physically exhausting than a sense of failure.

It is not always on the great or the important that the balance of the universe depends.