There's Bad Apples In Whatever Way You

I Was Going Through The Motions Of Life, Instead Of Really Living, And There's No Excuse For That. It's Not Something I'll Let Happen To Me Again.

I Do Believe In An Everyday Sort Of Magic -- The Inexplicable Connectedness We Sometimes Experience With Places, People, Works Of Art And The Like; The Eerie Appropriateness Of Moments Of Synchronicity; The Whispered Voice, The Hidden Presence, When We Think We're Alone.

The Beginning Of A Friendship, The Fact That Two People Out Of The Thousands Around Them Can Meet And Connect And Become Friends, Seems Like A Kind Of Magic To Me. But Maintaining A Friendship Requires Work. I Don't Mean That As A Bad Thing. Good Art Requires Work As Well.

The Best Artists Know What To Leave Out.

Sculptors, Poets, Painters, Musicians-they're The Traditional Purveyors Of Beauty. But It Can As Easily Be Created By A Gardener, A Farmer, A Plumber, A Careworker.