We can’t live in a fantasy. Reality may be hard, but it’s all we have.
Everything worthwhile ends. We are in the perpetual process now: creation, maturation, cessation.
Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time, testify to the present or to the coming generations, that we have forgotten, as a people, the cost of a free and undivided Republic.
Music’s the medicine of the mind.
Music is the medicine of the mind.
Behold congenial Autumn comes, the Sabbath of the Year.
When I was your age, art was a lonely thing: no galleries, no collecting, no critics, no money. We didn’t have mentors. We didn’t have parents. We were alone. But it was a great time, because we had nothing to lose and a vision to gain.
And if I sit in that room at the top of the house and I think about my life and if I shut my eyes from time to time and imagine being warm in the summer and I hear the bees buzzing and for a moment I truly am Alice in Wonderland, do you have the heart to tell me I am not?
Reality may be hard, but it’s all we have.
There is only one thing I fear in life, my friend... One day the black will swallow the red.
I would rather die on my feet than spend a lifetime on my knees.
Above all of them, invisibly, the clouds were shifting like thoughts in a disturbed soul.