Old Age Is An Insult. It's Like

What Are Stars But Points In The Body Of God Where We Insert The Healing Needles Of Our Terror And Longing?

You See, Nothing Matters Except Pleasure - Which Is The Opposite Of Happiness, Its Tragic Part, I Expect.

These Are The Moments Which Are Not Calculable, And Cannot Be Assessed In Words; They Live On In The Solution Of Memory, Like Wonderful Creatures, Unique Of Their Own Kind, Dredged Up From The Floors Of Some Unexplored Ocean.

The Heaviest Impact Of The Work Of Art Is In The Guts. Art Does Not Reason. It Manhandles You And Changes You.

No One Can Go On Being A Rebel Too Long Without Turning Into An Autocrat.