In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to.

Nothing reduces the odds against you like ignoring them.

Two people can have a middling day, but one rounds up and the other rounds down.

There is a public me and a private me, who, if they were separate people, probably wouldn't exchange Christmas cards.

The artist's talent sits uneasy as an object of public acclaim, having been so long an object of private despair.

Sometimes you believe a thing that isn't true because in the world you wish to live in, it would be true.

Sometimes I sit up late with my thoughts, reluctant to fall asleep and leave my thoughts alone by themselves.