You never came home for lunch: you just stayed doing, playing, having fun, surfing, running round.
Real life seems to have no plots.
There are different kinds of wrong. The people sinned against are not always the best.
Magnifying a matter is not the way to mend it.
My youth is escaping without giving me anything it owes me.
As regards plot I find real life no help at all. Real life seems to have no plots. And as I think a plot desirable and almost necessary, I have this extra grudge against life.
I never know why self-sacrifice is noble. Why is it better to sacrifice oneself than someone else?
Picasso and Matisse were the guys I wanted to get away from, and cubism is all still lifes. Their paintings are all closed drawings. And still life is a perfect form for that. By the mid-'50s, I sort of dropped the still life. The large picture was a way of getting around them, too. The abstract expressionists were also into the large form because it was a way of getting around Matisse and Picasso. Picasso can't paint big paintings. Matisse didn't bother after a certain point.
The Church and the world have a great need of eucharistic worship. Jesus waits for us in this sacrament of love. Let us be generous with our time in going to meet Him in adoration and in contemplation that is full of faith and ready to make reparation for the great faults and crimes of the world. May our adoration never cease
Believe in the reader and they can connect the dots, if you succeed breathe life into the story
For an artist to think in terms of success is like a priest trying to think in terms of success.