The drive to Santa Fe on I-25 is midly zen. There are public road signs that say "Gusty Winds May Exist". This seems more like lazy philosophy than travel advice.

The villain is the person who knows the most but cares the least.

Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.

The essays are very solipsistic and self-absorbed, I'm totally conscious of that. To me, book writing is fun, and I basically just write about things that are entertaining to myself.

Anybody who says they are a good liar obviously is not, because any legitimately savvy liar would always insist they're honest about everything.

Seeing no resolution to my existential recognition of loss, I decide to eat lunch.

First, you must love yourself. And if you do that convincingly enough, others will love you too much.

People who talk about their dreams are actually trying to tell you things about themselves they’d never admit in normal conversation.

I love the way music inside a car makes you feel invisible; if you plan the stereo at max volume, it's almost like the other people can't see into your vehicle. It tints your windows, somehow.

The most wretched people in the world are those who tell you they like every kind of music 'except country.' People who say that are boorish and pretentious at the same time.

Sarcasm is when you tell someone the truth by lying on purpose.

Even the simple act of tuning the radio to a music program can lift our spirits and show the world "I'm not going to give up.

I left Jamaica for a while, because as an artist I need to experience different things, see the world, have different energies. Living in one place is not good for me.

The logs of wood which move down the river together Are driven apart by every wave. Such inevitable parting Should not be the cause of misery.

Which is better, truth that is a lie or the lie that is truth?

Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of ev'n or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine.

Evolution is the secret for the next step.

The hard part is how to plan a picture so as to give to others what has happened to you. To render in paint an experience, to suggest the sense of light and color, of air and space.

Change the scheme! Alter the mood! Electrify the boys and girls, if you'd be so kind.

Miracle me no miracles.

Something that's unsustainable, like a dysfunctional relationship, can go on longer than you expect, and then end faster and messier than you think.