The artist is a person who is expert in the training of perception.

World War III is a guerrilla information war with no division between military and civilian participation.

There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.

As technology advances, it reverses the characteristics of every situation again and again. The age of automation is going to be the age of 'do it yourself.'

Obsolescence never meant the end of anything, it's just the beginning.

Publication is a self-invasion of privacy.

Madison Avenue is a very powerful aggression against private consciousness. A demand that you yield your private consciousness to public manipulation.

The modern Little Red Riding Hood, reared on singing commercials, has no objection to being eaten by the wolf.

The computer is the most extraordinary of man's technological clothing; it's an extension of our central nervous system. Beside it, the wheel is a mere hula-hoop.

We look at the present through a rear view mirror. We march backwards into the future.

In an age of multiple and massive innovations, obsolescence becomes the major obsession.

Everyone for whom I would have cried has already died.

The earth is too small a star and we too brief a visitor upon it for anything to matter more than the struggle for peace.

Great men are the real men, in them nature has succeeded.

There's a deep tribal aspect to my own nature. So when I'm in contact with those deep resources, of course I feel a very special kind of nourishment.

I'm an artist because that's what I was best at as a kid. It was fun... I continue to be an artist... for the freedom that an art career can bring. I don't need an alarm clock and I am my own boss.

I have a very strange melodic gift: melodies come to me effortlessly.

As long as enthusiasm holds out, so will new opportunities.

There are hundreds of Canadian communities that have given more thought to hiring their rink manager than they have to electing their member of Parliament.

Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only, but he pretended not to notice me waving my hand in the air," says Haymitch. "See? He's already demonstrated good judgment.

When I hear of the destruction of a species, I feel just as if all the works of some great writer have perished.