Nothing feels better than getting home;
Nothing feels better than leaving home.

Find your reason, practice, and go on holidays.

To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.

What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.

And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

I don’t care about my body of work. I don’t care about having some ceavure. I don’t care about having a consistent body of work. The only thing that gives me enjoyment is the current pursuit of whatever I’m doing.

The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm.

If I already have a vision, my work is almost done. The rest is a technical problem.

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed.

Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case.

Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.

What keeps my heart awake is colorful silence.

Every day I discover more and more beautiful things. It’s enough to drive one mad. I have such a desire to do everything, my head is bursting with it.

I’m continuing to work hard, not without periods of discouragement, but my strength comes back again.

When I work I forget all the rest.

My wife’s the reason anything gets done. She nudges me towards promise by degrees. She is a perfect symphony of one, our son is her most beautiful reprise. We chase the melodies that seem to find us until they’re finished songs and start to play. When senseless acts of tragedy remind us that nothing here is promised, not one day. This show is proof that history remembers. We live through times when hate and fear seem stronger. We rise and fall and light from dying embers. Remembrances that hope and love live longer. And love is love is love is love is love is love is love and cannot be killed or swept aside.

Der Himmel leuchtet in Schwarz und in Blau / Er schmückt sich mit Sternen / So als wolle er niemals wieder Grau / Und hässlich werden / Schrei mich an, wenn du magst / Lach mich aus, wenn du willst

Aber ich liebe es / Wie die Erde sich dreht / Und der Mond dann auf einmal / Hell und einsam über uns steht / Ich bin Freund von Klischees / Und von funkelnden Sternen / Und ich mag dich sehr, sehr gern

It’s curious that change is so fast technologically and so slow socially.

The idea is to find yourself a posse of misfits who have the courage to not only question authority but the whole dominant reality, and create magic together.

Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.