A Good Life Is Not Measured By

Some Other Places Were Not So Good But Maybe We Were Not So Good When We Were In Them.

His Talent Was As Natural As The Pattern That Was Made By The Dust On A Butterfly's Wings. At One Time He Understood It No More Than The Butterfly Did And He Did Not Know When It Was Brushed Or Marred.

It Is Very Bad For (an Artist) To Talk About How He (creates). It Is Not The (artist's) Province To Explain Or To Run Guided Tours Through The More Difficult Country Of His Work. It's None Of Their Business That You Had To Learn. Let Them Think You Were Born That Way.

There Were Many Words That You Could Not Stand To Hear And Finally Only The Names Of Places Had Dignity. Certain Numbers Were The Same Way And Certain Dates And These With The Names Of The Places Were All You Could Say And Have Them Mean Anything. Abstract Words Such As Glory, Honor, Courage, Or Hallow Were Obscene Beside The Concrete Names Of Villages, The Numbers Of Roads, The Names Of Rivers, The Numbers Of Regiments And The Dates.

I Don't Think I Ever Owned Twenty Pencils At One Time. Wearing Down Seven Number-two Pencils Is A Good Day's Work.