Your life is a piece of clay

I get a fine warm feeling when I'm doing well, but that pleasure is pretty much negated by the pain of getting started each day. Let's face it, writing is hell.

Houston, Tranquillity Base here. The Eagle has landed.

Creamy and leggy, with long azure hair and the eyes of a silent-movie star, she moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

Whatever kind of seed is sown in a field, prepared in due season, a plant of that same kind, marked with the peculiar qualities of the seed, springs up in it.

Few find success without hard work and determination. Those who do have hardly gained anything for themselves that they deserve.

Poetry is so vital to us until school spoils it.

The Church exists by mission, just as a fire exists by burning.

We were both music-obsessed, each in our own way. If we didn't entirely understand the other person's obsession, it didn't matter, because we understood our own.

Fundamentally, Eva is just my life copied out onto film. I'm [still] alive, so the story hasn't finished.

They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.