Whatever its symbol - cross or crescent or whatever - that symbol is man's reminder of his duty inside the human race.

Everything in Los Angeles is too large, too loud and usually banal in concept… The plastic asshole of the world.

Idleness breeds our better virtues.

Man performs and engenders so much more than he can or should have to bear. That's how he finds that he can bear anything.

All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the base of our splendid failure to do the impossible.

And we'd sit in the dry leaves that whispered a little with the slow respiration of our waiting and with the slow breathing of the earth and the windless october, the rank smell of the lantern fouling the brittle air, listening to the dog and the echo of louis' voice dying away

The work never matches the dream of perfection the artist has to start with.