Go, then! Go to the moon-you selfish dreamer!

A man, when he burns, leaves only a handful of ashes. No woman can hold him. The wind must blow him away.

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 scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart.

Young, gifted, and destitute.

Kenneth Hari does not paint portraits as they are but as he is. I feel he is hiding something from me. To board a train into his mind would give me a ride into dark adventure.

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.