He Said That In A Way Being

Complaints About Reality Are Immature.

I Doubt We Will Ever Be Forgiven. All I Hope Is – They'll Remember We Were Human Beings

Literature Was Intended To Be Dangerous. Art Was Meant To Be Dangerous. Ideas Were Nothing If They Were Not Dangerous.

And What You Do Is You Go Into Where Your Anger Is, If You're Writing Anger, You Go Into Where Your Hatred Is, If You're Writing Hatred. Your Joy Is, If You're Writing Joy. You Find The Source Of The Energy That Draws Hatred, Anger, Joy, Etc., Etc., Etc. That's What You Have To Find. That's What You Do As An Actor And That's What You Do As A Writer. And You Bring People To The Page.

... Too Much Brooding, Not Enough Doing.