I'm scarcely an enfant!

He loved her, he loved her, and until he'd loved her she had never minded being alone.

The feeble-minded, the neurotic, the criminal, perhaps, also, the artist, have unpredictability and perverted innocence in common.

Fame is only good for one thing - they will cash your check in a small town.

Never demean yourself by talking back to a critic, never. Write those letters to the editor in your head, but don't put them on paper.

Personally, I rather think that if you're not creative you've got a problem on your hands. If you are creative you've got a double problem.

All artists are two-headed calves.