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Art creates a certain familiarity with loneliness. And possibly with pain. Physical, mental, it doesn’t really matter. It’s all a catalyst. I don’t like to admit that because it’s depressing, but in truth pain is the stone that art sharpens itself on time after time.
The starting point may be different for each, but the goal is the same. Do something worthwhile before you die.
Without doubt you don’t have reason. Without reason you don’t have choice. Without choice, you don’t have life.’
Even after all this time, the sun never says, “You owe me.” Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole world.
