I Get So Tired Of Moral Bookkeeping.

The Arts Do Live Continuously, And They Live Literally By Faith; Their Names And Their Shapes And Their Uses And Their Basic Meanings Survive Unchanged In All That Matters Through Times Of Interruption, Diminishment, Neglect; They Outlive Governments And Creeds And The Societies, Even The Very Civilization That Produced Them. They Cannot Be Destroyed Altogether Because They Represent The Substance Of Faith And The Only Reality. They Are What We Find Again When The Ruins Are Cleared Away.

Human Life Itself May Be Almost Pure Chaos, But The Work Of The Artist Is To Take These Handfuls Of Confusion And Disparate Things, Things That Seem To Be Irreconcilable, And Put Them Together In A Frame To Give Them Some Kind Of Shape And Meaning.

You Waste Life When You Waste Good Food.

The Very Thing About People That Makes The Human Race Interesting Is Also The Thing That Makes It So Hard To Get Anything Done Without The Most Horrible Confusions: No Two People Think Exactly The Same Way About Anything.

Physical Infidelity Is The Signal, The Notice Given, That All Fidelities Are Undermined.