Manipulated, One Manipulates Others.

What Goes Too Long Unchanged Destroys Itself.

Almost Anything Carried To A Logical Extreme Becomes Depressing.

I Had Forgotten How Much Light There Is In The World, Till You Gave It Back To Me.

The Artist Deals With What Cannot Be Said In Words.

I Think There Is No Way To Write About Being Alone. To Write Is To Tell Something To Somebody To Communicate To Others. . . . Solitude Is Noncommunication, The Absence Of Others, The Presence Of A Self Sufficient To Itself.