I hold head coaches accountable.
Professors go batty too, perhaps more often than other people, although owing to their profession, their madness is less often remarked.
But there's the paradox of fiction - why do you cry when a fake character dies? It's the basis of art. You engage with people who don't exist and care about them as you would your friends and relatives.
The problem with evil people is that they can see only evil in others. It is one of the worst curses of being evil, that you can no longer experience good.
But it turns out that people who are grounded and secure don't change much under stress. That's what being grounded means.
As a matter of fact I had a terribly traumatic childhood. But afterward I sort of reraised myself.
Does it matter, when you read, if the person who wrote still lives?
You've just got to trust your instincts and realize that you can't please all the people all the time. You've got to please yourself ultimately in the end.
When people talk about gender-benders and bracket me with George, I always think I'm not like that. I had more of a rock edge, mixed with the 80s electro.
Living substance conquers the frenzy of destruction only in the ecstasy of procreation.
And above all, you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and panelling…the question should never be: ‘Do I like that kind of service?’ but ‘Are these doctrines true: Is holiness there? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to move to this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike for this particular door-keeper?