Memory is what you did. Life is what you're doing.
I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss.
Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
She did not look at the daffodils. They didn't mean anything. She looked at the daffodils. She said, 'Thank you for the daffodils.
Escape from the power of the hunting pack, and to know that wisdom is best and beauty sheer holiness.
Sing and your hell is heaven, your heaven less hell.
I testify to rainbow feathers, to the span of heaven and walls of colour, the colonnades of jasper.
Now is a time for change, a time to become the greatest version of yourself. And a time to to make your grandest vision of the world.
From '86 until the summer of last year, wherever I went, people would say, You would have made a great James Bond! Weren't you going to be James Bond? You should have been, you could have been, you may have been. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. It was like unfinished business in my life. I couldn't say no to it this time around.
A theme that appears repeatedly in the writings of the social critics of the second half of the 20th century is the sense of purposelessness that afflicts many people in modern society.
I just feel much more secure about whatever I write if I stand with one foot in reality - meaning if the stories I write about have a core of "this actually (could have) happened. "