The request of industry to government is as modest as that of Diogenes to Alexander: Get out of my light.
World, they have taken the small children like butterflies and thrown them, beating their wings, into the fire--
But silence is where victims dwell.
We breathed the air of freedom without knowing the language or any person.
Instead of a homeland I hold the metamorphoses of the world.
When sleep enters the body like smoke and man journeys into the abyss like an extinguished star that is lighted elsewhere, then all quarrel ceases, overworked nag that has tossed the nightmare grip of its rider.
We mothers rock into the heart of the world the melody of peace.
Sunsets in themselves are generally superior to sunrises; but with the sunset we appreciate images drawn from departed peace and faded glory.
It's time to end the era of mass incarceration. We need a true national debate about how to reduce our prison population.
You just have to keep getting out of your own way so that whatever it is that wants to be written can use you to write it.
The problem of making artists talk about their work is that when they're making their work the left-brain is shut off. So if you talk to an artist about it, you're talking to someone who wasn't there. It's hopeless. And also it's insulting. It's implying that the work is not an adequate account of itself. To me, the greatest artists are almost entirely non-verbal.