Kristus var en v rdig man att g ra uppror mot, f r han var sj lv upproret personifierat.

I was too curious about the future to look back.

My great quandary was what coat to wear and which books to bring.

We seek to stay present, even as the ghosts attempt to draw us away.

In my way of thinking, anything is possible. Life is at the bottom of things and belief at the top, while the creative impulse, dwelling in the center, informs all.

All I needed for the mind was to be led to new stations. All I needed for the heart was to visit a place of greater storms.

I may not know what is in your mind, but I know how your mind works.

A wind picked up and I could feel the sea within it.

I craved honesty, yet found dishonesty in myself. Why commit to art? For self-realization, or for itself? It seemed indulgent to add to the glut unless one offered illumination.

A real prison breakfast" I said. "Yeah, but we are free." And that summed it up.

The dark stone in my heart pulsed quietly, igniting like a coal in a hearth. Who is in my heart? I wondered.

There's always new stuff, that's for sure.

I knew he didn't love me, but I adored him anyway.

Somehow I started introducing writing into my drawings, and after a time, the language took over and I started getting very involved with the handwriting and then the look of the handwriting.

We promised that we'd never leave one another again, until we both knew we were ready to stand on our own. And this vow, through everything we were yet to go through, we kept.

Everything I came up with seemed irreverent or irrelevant.

The transformation of the heart is a wondrous thing, no matter how you land there.

The Chelsea was like a doll’s house in the Twilight Zone, with a hundred rooms, each a small universe.

Smile for me, Patti, as I am smiling for you.

We would work side by side for hours, in a state of mutual concentration.

When we awoke he greeted me with his crooked smile, and I knew he was my knight.

Christ was a man worthy to rebel against, for he was rebellion itself.

For a time Robert protected me, then was dependent on me, and then possessive of me. His transformation was the rose of Genet, and he was pierced deeply by his blooming.

I’m sure I could write endlessly about nothing. If only I had nothing to say.