I tend to close my eyes when I look at people anymore.

The tools are real. The viewer is real, you, the artist, is real and a part of everything you paint. You connect yourself to the viewer by sharing something that is inside of you that connects with something inside of him. All you have as your guide is that you know what moves you. All you have to do it with is a brush, some chemical and canvas, and technique.

There was a sergeant at a desk. I knew he was a sergeant because I recognized the marks on his uniform, and I knew it was a desk because it's always a desk. There's always someone at a desk, except when it's a table that functions as a desk. You sit behind a desk, and everyone knows you're supposed to be there, and that you're doing something that involves your brain. It's an odd, special kind of importance. I think everyone should get a desk; you can sit behind it when you feel like you don't matter.

The struggle is always worthwhile, if the end be worthwhile and the means honorable; foreknowledge of defeat is not sufficient reason to withdraw from the contest.

The novel should be understood as a structure built to accommodate the greatest possible amount of cool stuff.

What's the point of having weak enemies? They just waste your time.

I have something to tell you." "How, you have something to tell me?" "You have understood me exactly." "Well, I am listening." "Listening? Then, you wish me to tell you?" "Yes, that is it. I am listening, and therefore I wish you to tell me." "Shall I tell you now?" "No.