Since that day, when people have spoken to me of "genius", I have felt the inside pocket to make sure my wallet's still there.

Not facing a fire doesn't put it out.

Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person.

Liquor is one way out an’ death’s the other.

Only some radical change can divert the downward course of my spirit, some startling new place or people to arrest the drift, the drag.

These are the intensities that one cannot live with, that he has to outgrow if he wants to survive. But who can help grieving for them? If the blood vessels could hold them, how much better to keep those early loves with us?

It is only in his work that an artist can find reality and satisfaction, for the actual world is less intense than the world of his invention and consequently his life, without recourse to violent disorder, does not seem very substantial. The right condition for him is that in which his work in not only convenient but unavoidable.