You perform the thing that you made, that's inside of you, and to subject that to any kind of scrutiny is terrifying. It's still terrifying to me.
Killing time takes practice.
Like a diaphanous nightgown, language both hides and reveals.
We all ended up somewhere with our various uncertain lives flapping about us in tatters and our pockets full of foreign coins.
We waltzed Lisztlessly.
Words themselves are the intimate attire of thoughts and feelings.
Teeth of winter, sinking into my flesh, my own clacking against each other like knitting needles, and I wish they'd knit a heavy shawl around my shoulders before widening into a yawn. Why do I always yawn when I'm cold?
By TV standards - I'm not comparing it to manual labor by any means - by TV comedy standards, it is the hardest job I will ever, ever have. There is nothing that could be harder. I mean, when you combine the amount of writing that has to be done - sharp writing - with the fact that you then take it to the street and improvise with both celebrities who have no idea what's going to happen and real people who are not actors or comedians who don't even know I'm about to talk to them. . . It's lightning in a bottle every time.
You can gain power by avoidance. You can gain power by doing certain things. You can gain much more power by meditating.
How much the making of a garden, no matter how small, adds to the joy of living, only those who practice the arts and the science can know.
I just don't know what makes a picture, really - the thing that makes it is something unique, as far as I can understand. Just like one guy can write a sentence and it's beautiful and another one can write it and it's dead. What the difference is, I don't know.