Darkness was and darkness was good. As with light. Light and Darkness dancing together, born together, born of each other, neither preceding, neither following, both fully being, in joyful rhythm.

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

My lovely shining fragile broken house is filled with flowers and founded on a rock.

You've got to accept the fact that you are basically not teaching a subject, you are teaching children

Art is an affirmation of life, a rebuttal of death. And here we blunder into paradox again, for during the creation of any form of art, art which affirms the value and the holiness of life, the artist must die. To serve a work of art, great or small, is to die, to die to self.

I am not some kind of computer. Only machines have glib answers for everything.

It takes too much energy to be against something unless it's really important.