Maybe marriages are best in middle age. When all the nonsense falls away and you realize you have to love one another because you're going to die anyway.

I stand in the mist and cry, thinking of myself standing in the mist and crying, and wondering if I will ever be able to use this experience in a book.

Though my friends envied me because I always seemed so cheerful and confident, I was secretly terrified of practically everything.

Any system was a straightjacket if you insisted on adhering to it so totally and humorlessly.

It was easy enough to kill yourself in a fit of despair. It was easy enough to play the martyr. It was harder to do nothing. To endure your life. To wait.

You don't have to beat a woman if you can make her feel guilty.

Husband and wife have no time left to spend together. Marriage took away our one reason for getting married.

We came to realize how little married couples see of each other once they crawl in the bourgeois box.

We're programmed for suffering, not joy. The masochism is built in at a very early age. You're supposed to work and suffer - and the trouble is: you believe it.

Tears are a form of communication - like speech - and require a listener.

There is nothing fiercer than a failed artist. The energy remains, but having no outlet, it implodes in a great fart of rage which smokes up all the inner windows of the soul.

The English novels are the only relaxation of the intellectually unemployed. But one should not be too severe on them. They show a want of knowledge that must be the result of years of study.

The scripture gives us timeless hope.

But the Dark cannot claim what Light does not surrender.

Anything is possible when tackling a blank sheet with ink. It's less distracting because I'm away from my computer and all of its convenient diversions.

In theory there is nothing to hinder our following what we are taught;but in life there are many things to draw us aside.

The subject matter is so much more important than the photographer.

There is no work of genius which has not been the delight of mankind, no word of genius to which the human heart and soul have not sooner or later responded.

When we know and love the best we are content to lack the approval of the many.

I love my brother. I miss my brother.

If I knew in 1986 how much it was going to cost to keep Pixar going, I doubt if I would have bought the company.