He has been trying to sing Love into existence again And he has failed

I did not know how to paint or even what to paint, but I knew I had to begin.

The cat jumps up on the bed and tries to get onto my head. It's his way of telling whether or not i'm dead. If i'm not, he wants to be scratched; if i am - he'll think of something

I was horrified in high school by the fate of the hanged maids at the end of the Odyssey; it seemed unfair to me, even then.

It's in Macbeth: "The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon." I seldom have occasion to pull it out, but it's ready and waiting!

I never say I'm an "ist" of any kind unless I know how the other person is defining it.

...we must be a beacon of hope, because if you tell people there's nothing they can do, they will do worse than nothing.