What distinguishes a great artist from a weak one is first their sensibility and tenderness; second, their imagination, and third, their industry.

One minute you've got a lucky star watching over you and the next instant it's done a bunk.

In the real world, immeasurable hurt is caused by terrorists based in Pakistan who attack countries like India.

But there's one thing we must all be clear about: terrorism is not the pursuit of legitimate goals by some sort of illegitimate means. Whatever the murderers may be trying to achieve, creating a better world certainly isn't one of their goals. Instead they are out to murder innocent people.

Books choose their authors; the act of creation is not entirely a rational and conscious one.

People don't like being around despair. Our tolerance for the truly hopeless, for those who are irredeemably broken by life is strictly limited. The sob stories we like are the ones that end before we're bored.

Home has become such a scattered, damaged, various concept in our present travails. There is so much to yearn for. There are so few rainbows any more.