Still Though, I Think If You're Not

It Is No Way To Live, To Wait To Love.

God: I Own You Like I Own The Caves. The Ocean: Not A Chance. No Comparison. God: I Made You. I Could Tame You. The Ocean: At One Time, Maybe. But Not Now. God: I Will Come To You, Freeze You, Break You. The Ocean: I Will Spread Myself Like Wings. I Am A Billion Tiny Feathers. You Have No Idea What's Happened To Me.

Good Artists Exist In What They Make, And Consequently Are Perfectly Uninteresting In What They Are.

The Key Thing Is, Even If You Only Have A Couple Of Hours A Month, Those Two Hours Shoulder-to-shoulder, Next To One Student, Concentrated Attention, Shining This Beam Of Light On Their Work, On Their Thoughts And Their Self-expression, Is Going To Be Absolutely Transformative, Because So Many Of The Students Have Not Had That Ever Before.

When You're In Your Twenties In A New City Where No One's From Here, We're All Sort Of Orphans. The Only People That You Can Count On Our Bunch Of People That You Work With And That You Know. You're Only As Good As The Reliability Of That Latticework.