How! leap into the pit our life to save? To save our life leap all into the grave.
Good God, what a mess of draggle-tail impulses a man is--and a woman too, I guess.
With all our horrors and faults, somewhere in us there is a shining.
The redwoods, once seen, leave a mark or create a vision that stays with you always. No one has ever successfully painted or photographed a redwood tree. The feeling they produce is not transferable. From them comes silence and awe. It's not only their unbelievable stature, nor the color which seems to shift and vary under your eyes, no, they are not like any trees we know, they are ambassadors from another time.
And, of course, people are interested only in themselves. If a story is not about the hearer he will not listen.
The camera need not be a cold mechanical device. Like the pen, it is as good as the man who uses it. It can be the extension of mind and heart.
Writers are a little below clowns and a little above trained seals.
Real confidence has no bluster or bombast. It's not rooted in a desire to seem better than everyone else and it's not driven by a fear of appearing weak. Real confidence settles in when you have a clear vision of exactly what you need to do. Real confidence blooms as you wield the skills and power you have built through your hard work and discipline.
The real thing we tried to look at is what happens to a society when the state is absent. At that point, the state had really withdrawn from Lagos; the city was left to its own devices, both in terms of money and services. That, by definition, created an unbelievable proliferation of independent agency: each citizen needed to take, in any day, maybe 400 or 500 independent decisions on how to survive that extremely complex system.
I find that the rhythm of going on long walks will suggest melodies.
It was lovely to do The Knock because I haven't done anything really significant since Doctor Who.