In the days of the frost seek an minor sun.

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.

When the human mind exists in the light of reason and no more than reason, we may say with absolute certainty that Man and all that made him will be in that instant gone.

It has been said repeatedly that one can never, try as he will, get around to the front of the universe. Man is destined to see only its far side, to realize nature only in retreat.

If it should turn out that we have mishandled our own lives as several civilizations before us have done, it seems a pity that we should involve the violet and the tree frog in our departure.

The great artist, whether he be musician, painter, or poet, is known for this absolute unexpectedness.

It is a commonplace of all religious thought, even the most primitive, that the man seeking visions and insight must go apart from his fellows and love for a time in the wilderness.

The journey is difficult, immense. We will travel as far as we can, but we cannot in one lifetime see all that we would like to see or to learn all that we hunger to know.

Each one of us is a statistical impossibility around which hover a million other lives that were never destined to be born.

We cannot pluck a flower witout disturbing a star.

It is frequently the tragedy of the great artist, as it is of the great scientist, that he frightens the ordinary man.

Fantasy is unconstrained by truth.

With every project I start out on, there's no footage. It's always a big slog to find the footage.

A page with a poem on it is less attractive than a page with a poem on it and some tea stains.

The Heavenly City already exists and the departed Saints are already there!

My parents never pressured me except to advise me against acting.

I've always led a pretty simple life, with few extravagances. The money in tennis never drove me.

Remember, it is only exposed problems that can be resolved.

Ultimately, it's about the quality of the writing whatever style you are writing.

June 16, 1971, mama gave birth to a Hell rasing heavenly son.

O that the gods would bring to a miserable end such fictitious, crazy, deformed labours, with which the minds of the studious are blinded!