There are kids out there who'd chop their legs off to play football for Brighton
I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love.
O my enormous piano, you are not like being outdoors
oh god it’s wonderful to get out of bed and drink too much coffee and smoke too many cigarettes and love you so much
Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again, and interesting, and modern.
the only truth is face to face, the poem whose words become your mouth and dying in black and white we fight for what we love, not are
I have, for my own projected works and ideas, only the silliest and dewiest of hopes; no matter what, I am romantic enough or sentimental enough to wish to contribute something to life's fabric, to the world's beauty. . . . [S]imply to live does not justify existence, for life is a mere gesture on the surface of the earth, and death a return to that from which we had never been wholly separated; but oh to leave a trace, no matter how faint, of that brief gesture! For someone, some day, may find it beautiful!
Photographers can either look out the window at the world or they can look in the mirror.
A blown-out tube ripped some of the grind from the amplifier, throwing us into a momentary tizzy. The unusual sound led me to play unusually, and the recorded take turned out to be a keeper. Insriration can come from the most unlikely places. . . keep your head on and your ears open.
There seems to be such an insecurity with a lot of films. When they're made, you have to pack every moment to feel something and use the music in that way. That's something I just naturally don't feel.
Less than seventy-five years after it officially began, the contest between capitalism and socialism is over: capitalism has won.