History is that certainty produced at the point where the imperfections of memory meet the inadequacies of documentation.

Some of the freckles I once loved are now closer to liver spots. But it’s still the eyes we look at, isn’t it? That’s where we found the other person, and find them still.

Later on in life, you expect a bit of rest, don't you? You think you deserve it. I did, anyway. But then you begin to understand that the reward of merit is not life's business.

What you end up remembering isn't always the same as what you have witnessed.

Time...give us enough time and our best-supported decisions will seem wobbly, our certainties whimsical.

And yet it takes only the smallest pleasure or pain to teach us time’s malleability.

May you be ordinary, as the poet once wished the new-born baby.

Life seemed even more of a guessing game than usual.

I thought of the things that had happened to me over the years, and of how little I had made happen.

Is there anything more plausible than a second hand?

you find yourself repeating, ‘They grow up so quickly, don’t they?’ when all you really mean is: time goes faster for me nowadays.

We are not good because of the good we do but we are good and so we do good.

And I did a movie called Basil with Jared Leto and Christian Slater.

Some think the worst horrors of war might be avoided by an international agreement not to use atomic bombs. This is a vain hope.

Many people are so poor because the only thing they have is money.

The most original sin is not the thinker's but the poet's.

My goal is to be a great-looking 70-year-old! I won't mind being 70, but I want people to say, "You're 70?"

The shame in life is not to fail to reach your dream, but to fail to have a dream to reach.

Two premature babies was not a genetic thing; we were just unlucky.

In the absence of wake-up calls, many of us never really confront the critical issues of life.

It is essential not only to the souls of painters and poets, who thrive in solitude, but to the rest of us, too--individuals whose canvas is our lives.