If you're an actor in your heart, no matter how much money they shove at you, it doesn't matter if the work doesn't provide that creative spark. You want out.
The dubious privilege of a freelance writer is he’s given the freedom to starve anywhere.
Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin - it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring.
I tried to resist his overtures, but he plied me with symphonies, quartets, chamber music, and cantatas.
The main obligation is to amuse yourself.
I guess I'm just an old mad scientist at bottom. Give me an underground laboratory, half a dozen atom-smashers, and a beautiful girl in a diaphanous veil waiting to be turned into a chimpanzee, and I care not who writes the nation's laws.
If, at the close of business each evening, I myself can understand what I've written, I feel the day hasn't been totally wasted.
You can grow up with literally nothing and you don't suffer if you know you're loved and valued.
The body's pain is so paper-thin and insignificant compared to that of the mind.
Wouldn't that be nice if we could all afford to just freely pursue our dreams?
I have a simple algorithm, which is, wherever you see paid researchers instead of grad students, that's not where you want to be doing research.