It just gets old when you hear a million raps about how many ways I could shoot you.
It's not what your parents give you. It's what you do with your own stuff.
The grief of losing my father has come in waves over the years, as it does with most people. His love and devotion as a father provided my closest, most intimate relationship. Dad, and our time together, is in my bones. While reflecting on him, the memories themselves seem to boil down into certain 'essences of Dad. '
I remember going on carriage rides with Dad when we'd visit. I think quiet L. A. suited him better, but he loved to see shows here, he loved to visit his friends in the Hamptons.
When it comes to Father's Day, I will remember my dad for both being there to nurture me and also for the times he gave me on my own to cultivate my own interests and to nurture my own spirit.
Shoot for the moon. If you miss, shoot again.
My son Cary's generation likely won't know who my father was, but it's something nice for him that his grandfather was an icon. I had one chance to pass along that name.
How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!
. . . knowing that to be a librarian was to come as close as any human being can to sitting in the peak-seat of eternity's engine.
One of the reasons I don't like to use the word "tricks" , I do think of them as theatrical pieces, and as pretentious as that might sound, there's a real reason for it. It's not the idea of tricking you; it's the idea of taking you along on this particular journey the way you would in any other theatrical situation. But, hopefully, you're going to be fooled at the end.
Fingernails are for opening things and toenails are for storing precious minerals off the ground.