I love New York, even though it isn't mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.

I've never worked for a newspaper. I've had some very bad reviews in newspapers.

You don't understand. You've never hated anybody. No, I never have. We're allotted just so much time on earth, and I wouldn't want the Lord to see me wasting mine in any such manner.

The only obligation any artist can have is to himself. His work means nothing, otherwise. It has no meaning.

I don't care what anybody says about me as long as it isn't true.

I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods.

Good luck and believe me, dearest Doc - it's better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear.