From this observed behavior a major psychological truth about this race of forked destroyers may be deduced: that, just as nature abhors a vacuum, "mankind abhors equality."

Some say that life has no form, that it is extremely diffuse. I think I can agree with them. ... A life without conclusions is painful.

An artist is a person who lives in the triangle which remains after the angle which we may call common sense has been removed from this four-cornered world.

I am a cat. As yet I have no name

The artist, even when he imitates nature, always feels himself to be not a slave but a demigod.

Loneliness is the price we have to pay for being born in this modern age, so full of freedom, independence, and our own egotistical selves.

Into the field of Yellow flowers The red setting sun!

On a charcoal kiln a vine keeps climbing, while being burned to death.

They say "You can't give a smile away it always comes back." The same is true of a kind word or a conversation starter. What goes around comes around.

If I feel like I've done the best that I can or conducted myself in the most constructive way that I can in a situation, then I feel peace.

An egotist is a person of low taste - more interested in himself than in me.

One thing both men have in common is a love of golf and a shared knowledge of the word "mulligan," which means a do-over to replace a lousy shot.

I got by as a musician since day one. I don't live beyond my means. I have real cheap tastes.

The most important adage and the only adage is, the customer comes first, whatever the business, the customer comes first.

The entire lower world was created in the likeness of the higher world. All that exists in the higher world appears like an image in this lower world; yet all this is but One.

I think that the only way that you're going to succeed anywhere is to fail, as crazy as that sounds. It's the only way. You have to fail your way up.

I have never imagined doing anything other than football, but now, thinking about it coldly, if I hadn't been a footballer, I would have been a musician.

Pain. I seem to have an affection, a kind of sweettooth for it. Bolts of lightning, little rivulets of thunder. And I the eye of the storm.