“You go from dream to dream inside me. You have passage to my last shabby corner, and there, among the debris, you’ve found life. I’m no longer sure which of all the words, images, dreams or ghosts are ‘yours’ and which are ‘mine.’ It’s past sorting out.”

Someday she might replace whatever of her had gone away by some prosthetic device, a dress of a certain color, a phrase in a letter, another lover.

All investigations of Time, however sophisticated or abstract, have at their true base the human fear of mortality.

Every weirdo in the world is on my wavelength.

For every kind of vampire, there is a kind of cross.

What goes around may come around, but it never ends up exactly the same place, you ever notice? Like a record on a turntable, all it takes is one groove’s difference and the universe can be on into a whole ‘nother song.

If the world offered nothing, nowhere to support or make bearable whatever her private grief was, then it is that world, and not she, that is at fault.

Through the machineries of greed, pettiness, and the abuse of power, love occurs.

Length is usually intensity. Not time.

It all comes down, as it must, to the desires of individual men. Oh, and women too of course, bless their empty little heads.

She may know a little, may think of herself, face and body, as ‘pretty’ but he could never tell her all the rest, how many other living things, birds, nights smelling of grass and rain, sunlit moments of simple peace, also gather in what she is to him.

If patterns of ones and zeros were ‘like’ patterns of human lives and death, if everything about an individual could be represented in a computer record by a long string of ones and zeros, then what kind of creature would be represented by a long string of lives and deaths?

Perhaps its familiarity rendered it temporarily invisible to you.

A screaming comes across the sky.

What are the stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?

There was no difference between the behavior of a god and the operations of pure chance.

They plot, they plot, sleeping or afoot they never let up.

Be a dreamer. If you don’t know how to dream, you’re dead.

My biggest dream to connect people through music has come true. In a world where there are enough reasons to separate us, the Oscars have unified us.

I never dreamt of being a musician for my livelihood. I certainly never would have wanted to be in the business that I’m in, meaning the fame and the glory, the glitter, the rock star, the famous part.

Film is my hobby, so I will work well through the night to develop films, whatever film I’m doing or dream projects I have.

How do you go from where you are to where you wanna be? And I think you have to have an enthusiasm for life. You have to have a dream, a goal. And you have to be willing to work for it.

There are people these days who can do things on the guitar which are beyond my reach. There’s one guy who plays with Queen who can do things I would dream of doing. I sincerely mean that.

It’s insecurity that is always chasing you and standing in the way of your dreams.

It is only with united effort and faith in our destiny that we shall be able to translate the Pakistan of our dreams into reality.