Death when to death a death by death hath given Then shall be op't the long shut gates of heaven. [Mors, mortis morti mortem nisi morte dedisset (dedisses). ]
I read constantly. If I don't have a good book, I'm beside myself.
You're supposed to get tired planting bulbs. But it's an agreeable tiredness.
Much of the activity we think of as writing is, actually, getting ready to write.
I work continuously within the shadow of failure. For every novel that makes it to my publisher's desk, there are at least five or six that died on the way. And even with the ones I do finish, I think of all the ways they might have been better.
At times. . . one is downright thankful for the self-absorption of other people.
What did a few ripples in the flesh matter when, all too soon, now or later, that flesh would be making its return journey to dust?
Obviously there are times with acting when exactly what is required is just going through the motions, and when doing nothing is the best thing. But at other times, you have to make that leap beyond the immediate environment of people putting up lights on the set.
True religion. . . is giving and finding one's happiness by bringing happiness into the lives of others.
The Mets have shown me more ways to lose than I even knew existed.
My methodology is not knowing what I'm doing and making that work for me.