Just because you’re taught that something’s right and everyone believes it’s right, it don’t make it right.
A writer- and, I believe, generally all persons- must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.
I learned that it is the weak who are cruel, and that gentleness is to be expected only from the strong.
Everyone tells you what’s good for you. They don’t want you to find your own answers. They want you to believe theirs.
It would be very nice for nervous types like me if things were black-and-white, and you could tell where one thing ended and the next thing began, but as Einstein taught us, everything in the future and the past is right here now. There’s always something ending and something beginning. Yet in the very center is the truth of your spiritual identity: is you.
Once, Picasso was asked what his paintings meant. He said, ‘Do you ever know what the birds are singing? You don’t. But you listen to them anyway.’ So, sometimes with art, it is important just to look.
What the caterpillar calls the end, the rest of the world calls a butterfly.