An artist is always alone -- if he is an artist. No, what the artist needs is loneliness.
There is something else to be said about this immediate, spontaneous way of working, and that is this: in such moments, one is playing at the game of creation
Prayers are offered up daily - without charge... Refreshments are served when demanded.
“She rises up out of a sea of faces and embraces me, embraces me passionately--- a thousand eyes, noses, fingers, legs, bottles, windows, purses, saucers all glaring at us an we in each other's arm oblivious. I sit down beside her and she talks--- a flood of talk. Wild consumptive notes of hysteria, perversion, leprosy. I hear not a word because she is beautiful and I love her and now I am happy and willing to die.”