A life lived in chaos is an impossibility for the artist. No matter how unstructured may seem the painter's garret in Paris or the poet's pad in Greenwich Village, the artist must have some kind of order or he will proudce a very small body of work. To create a work of art, great or small, is work, hard work, and work requires discipline and order.

You learn to write by doing it.

Sometimes when we aren't looking, the holiness comes breaking through like a rainbow.

We tend to think things are new because we've just discovered them.

When the bright angel dominates, out comes a great work of art, a Michelangelo David or a Beethoven symphony.

A great painting or symphony or play, doesn't diminish us, but enlarges us, and we, too, want to make our own cry of affirmation to the power of Creation behind the Universe.

Compassion is nothing one feels with the intellect alone. Compassion is particular; it is never general.