The object of art is not to make salable pictures. It is to save yourself.

The fruition of the year had come and the night should have been fine with a moon in the sky and the crisp sharp promise of frost in the air, but it wasn't that way. It rained and little puddles of water shone under the street lamps on Main Street. In the woods in the darkness beyond the Fair Ground water dripped from the black trees.

I am a lover and have not found my thing to love.

Dare to be strong and courageous. That is the road. Venture anything. Be brave enough to dare to be loved. Be something more than man or woman. Be Tandy.

If I can write everything out plainly, perhaps I will myself understand better what has happened.

Realism, in so far as the word means reality to life, is always bad art.

The disease we all have and that we have to fight against all our lives is ... the disease of self.