Snatching the eternal out of the desperately fleeting is the great magic trick of human existence.

What on earth can you do on this earth but catch at whatever comes near you, with both your fingers, until your fingers are broken?

The object of art is to make eternal the desperately fleeting moment.

You know, then that the public Somebody you are when you 'have a name' is a fiction created with mirrors and that the only somebody worth being is the solitary and unseen you that existed from your first breath

You see, baby, after a glass or two of wine I’m inclined to extravagance.

I'm much more conscious of historical events since the '60s. In the '60s, I was insulated by my own addictions, my own lifestyle, from what was going on in the world. After I recovered I was amazed at certain people who had died. I hadn't noticed that they had gone. Not friends ... I'm talking about public figures who had passed away.

All your Western theologies, the whole mythology of them, are based on the concept of God as a senile delinquent.