The soft, fluttering cry of a barn owl rose over the churchyard. Silent men flowed out of the dark.

First he threw out all of his records, trashed his heart and then he went to sleep.

I do what I do. You like it, great. You don't, go listen to somebody else. I'm stickin' with the people who stuck with me.

I've been too productive for too long, and despite what anybody wants to strip away from me, I am influential. I am.

Words have a universe of qualities other than those of descriptive relation: Hardness, Density, Sound-Shape, Vector-Force, & Degrees of Transparency/Opacity.

The smoke from the fire passes through the building and the soot affixes itself to the walls. The smoke passes through the air and keeps going - liberation.

My reputation will always precede me to the day I die. For some people, that probably can't be quickly enough.

In the anxiety to get beautiful colour harmony do not exhaust all combinations on one canvas.

The world of dew is the world of dew. And yet, and yet--

All the biblical miracles will at last disappear with the progress of science.

That's the one thing I have over any twenty-one-year-old: a proud history of accumulated neuroses. That's the game in which I'm da man.