I am not ready to die, But I am learning to trust deathAs I have trusted life.I am movingToward a new freedom

Where joy in an old pencil is not absurd.

So let the world go, but hold fast to joy.

But tears are an indulgence. Memory sings.

What does myself now say to me?"Open the door of Mystery.

A bolt that raised her heart to blazing heightAnd made the vertical the very thrust of hope, And found its path at last(Slow work of Grace).

...when the petals fallSay it is beautiful and good, say it is well

It is time I came back to my real lifeAfter this voyage to an island with no name, Where I lay down at sunrise drunk with light.

I can tell you that solitudeIs not all exaltation, inner spaceWhere the soul breaths and work can be done.Solitude exposes the nerve, Raises up ghosts.The past, never at rest, flows through it.

You must live a life of self-consciousness always

Some of the most heart-breaking letters I receive are from people who tell how alcohol or drugs have ravaged their lives and destroyed their families.

To me, life without veal stock, pork fat, sausage, organ meat, demi-glace, or even stinky cheese is a life not worth living.

I think that hate is a feeling that can only exist where there is no understanding.

That is exciting to reinvent myself, to invent a new character. As an actor that is revitalizing.

An order to fire on people that do not fire on you is a completely illegal order.

Whoever invented double clicking should be shot in the head! Twice!

Our need to knock celebrities is...Twisted: it's deep in the mid-brain below the survival instinct. That lust to see a downfall. It's animalistic.

Better a little chiding than a great deal of heartbreak.

I enjoy now doing what I do... playing golf, relaxing a little, enjoying life.