Hermann Hesse // "This day will never come again and anyone who fails to eat and drink and taste and smell it will never have it offered to him again in all eternity. The sun will never shine as it does today...You must play your part and sing a song, one of your best."
Jean-Michel Basquiat // "I cross out words so you will see them more; the fact that they are obscured makes you want to read them."
Marilyn Monroe // "You’re always running into people’s unconscious."
Joseph Heller // attended a cocktail party hosted by a Wall Street hedge fund manager...his friend said "What do you think, Joe? That man earned more last month than you've made from all your books." Heller: "Maybe. But I have one thing he'll never have." Friend: "What's that?" Heller: "Enough."
Nina Simone // "I have to constantly re-identify myself to myself, reactivate my own standards, my own convictions about what I’m doing and why."
Jonas Mekas // "Don't we have enough ugliness already? And don’t we know these things already? Why always fight ugliness with ugliness, stupidity with stupidity, displaying still more and more of it? Why not create something beautiful to fight the ugliness with...fight ugliness just by being there, by emanating beauty, peace, truth."
Charles Bukowski // "I don't think it hurts, sometimes, to remember where you came from...They call it '9 to 5.' It's never 9 to 5... And what hurts is the steadily diminishing humanity of those fighting to hold jobs they don't want but fear the alternative worse. People simply empty out. They are bodies with fearful and obedient minds. The color leaves the eye. The voice becomes ugly. And the body. The hair. The fingernails. The shoes. Everything does. As a young man I could not believe that people could give their lives over to those conditions. As an old man, I still can't believe it. What do they do it for? ... An automobile on monthly payments? Or children? Children who are just going to do the same things that they did? ... Now in industry, there are vast layoffs...They are layed off by the hundreds of thousands and their faces are stunned: 'I put in 35 years...It ain't right...I don't know what to do...' They never pay the slaves enough so they can get free, just enough so they can stay alive and come back to work. I could see all this...I figured the park bench was just as good...Why not get there first before they put me there? Why wait? I just wrote in disgust against it all, it was a relief to get the shit out of my system. And now that I'm here, a so-called professional writer, after giving the first 50 years away...the luck I finally had in getting out of those places, no matter how long it took, has given me a kind of joy...I now write from an old mind and an old body, long beyond the time when most men would ever think of continuing such a thing, but since I started so late I owe it to myself to continue, and when the words begin to falter and I must be helped up stairways and I can no longer tell a bluebird from a paperclip, I still feel that something in me is going to remember...how I've come through the murder and the mess and the moil, to at least a generous way to die. To not to have entirely wasted one's life seems to be a worthy accomplishment, if only for myself."
Zadie Smith // "This is real. This life. We’re really here...this is really happening."
Pablo Picasso // "It takes a long time to grow young."