It always stimulates me to discover new examples of my own prejudice and stupidity, to realize that I don't know half as much as I think I do.

It's always a mystery to me, I have to confess. I've never been able to witness the birth of an idea. It seems as if one second, there's nothing particularly going on, and the next second, something is there.

I see myself as anybody, as everybody; I'm not just telling the story of my life to give the reader a picture of who I am.

Let me tell you, there's no better medicine than a friendly card game for sloughing off the cares of a workaday world.

Paintings. Or the collapse of time in images.

We have missed him in the sunshine, in the storm, in the twilight, ever since.

All children are love children, he said, but only the best ones are ever called that.