That's what it feels like when I write, like I have this beautiful world in my head, but when I try to remember it in order to write it down, I change it, and I can't ever get it back.

Sometimes when she told stories about the past her eyes would get teary from all the memories she had, but they weren't tears. She wasn't crying. They were just the memories, leaking out.

I have a pretty good memory, but memories are time beings, too, like cherry blossoms or ginkgo leaves; for a while they are beautiful, and then they fade and die.

Life is fleeting. Don't waste a single moment of your precious life. Wake up now! And now! And now!

The past is weird. I mean, does it really exist ? It feels like it exists, but where is it ? And if it did exists, but doesn’t now, then where did it go ?

There are many answers, none of them right, but some of them most definitely wrong.

But in the time it takes to say now, now is already over. It's already then.

You never know who it's going to be, or what they'll bring, but whatever it is, it's always exactly what is needed.

The wondrous thing about nature, her gift to us, is her wanton promiscuity. She reproduces herself with abandon, with teeming infinite generosity.

Everything in the universe is constantly changing, and nothing stays the same, and we must understand how quickly time flows by if we are to wake up and truly live our lives.

When I start writing novels, I go into them with a spirit of inquiry, rather than to substantiate prejudices I had in the beginning. If you don't do that, you can't write good characters.

Sun shines above making diamonds of lightTink-tinkling, tap dancing and bright.

It's a blindness thing, faith.

Where there is no vision the people perish.

I'm half-Irish, half-Dutch, and I was born in Belgium. If I was a dog, I'd be in a hell of a mess!

I hate playing the piano! And it's so hard to fight for Beethoven's soul! But that's what I have to do!

I've traveled more than any human being who's ever lived.

Allow the brush to 'wander' above the realm of conventional judgement and practice.

The rule is not to talk about money with people who have much more or much less than you.

Stupid speaks loudly; he makes noise like pigs! Wise man speaks calmly; he makes sound like quiet lakes!

I don't want to be separate from something that's important to me.