A Dream Can Be The Highest Point

Wholeness Is The Enemy Of The Artist. We Ought To Be Broken, Ruined In Some Way.

What Hope Is There For Individual Reality Or Authenticity When The Forces Of Violence And Orthodoxy, The Earthly Powers Of Guns And Bombs And Manipulated Public Opinion Make It Impossible For Us To Be Authentic And Fulfilled Human Beings? The Only Hope Is In The Creation Of Alternative Values, Alternative Realities. The Only Hope Is In Daring To Redream One's Place In The World - A Beautiful Act Of Imagination, And A Sustained Act Of Self Becoming. Which Is To Say That In Some Way Or Another We Breach And Confound The Accepted Frontiers Of Things.

Stories Are The Secret Reservoir Of Values: Change The Stories Individuals And Nations Live By And Tell Themselves, And You Change The Individuals And Nations.

One Of The Greatest Gifts My Father Gave Me - Unintentionally - Was Witnessing The Courage With Which He Bore Adversity.

I Went To London Because, For Me, It Was The Home Of Literature. I Went There Because Of Dickens And Shakespeare.