I've learned never to be surprised if what must inevitably happen happens right now.

There comes a time when a man and woman realize that their separate schemes can be better achieved as a conspiracy.

In the end, who among us does not choose to be a little less right to be a little less lonely.

There is always, in the fine arts, a physical interface between the artist's esthetic vision and the material result he seeks. The interface may be the application of brush to canvas, chisel to marble, bow to string... It may be the control of voice in song or the control of body in dance. It is the mastery of the interface that comprises the artistry; it is what constitutes the 'art' in fine art.

Mom - the person most likely to write an autobiography and never mention herself.

All is illusion, although as long as there's an illusion that the kids need to be fed, all might as well be reality.

If you knew that hope and despair were paths to the same destination, which would you choose?