Most people are afraid to trust their imaginations and the artist is not.
There is this thing called life. We live it, not as we intend or wish, but as we are driven on by forces outside and inside ourselves.
Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.
Wait and wait. Most people's lives are spent waiting.
It was a cold day but the sun was out and the trees were like great bonfires against gray distant fields and hills.
The disease we all have and that we have to fight against all our lives is ... the disease of self.