“A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages.”

An artist must believe in himself – Possibly not so passionately as Lawrence – but passionately.

In memory everything seems to happen to music.

It is only in his work that an artist can find reality and satisfaction, for the actual world is less intense than the world of his invention and consequently his life, without recourse to violent disorder, does not seem very substantial.

I try to work every day because you have no refuge but writing.

William Saroyan wrote a great play on this theme, that purity of heart is the one success worth having. “In the time of your life–live!”

The strongest influences in my life and my work are always whomever I love.

Youth must be wanton, youth must be quick, Dance to the candle while lasteth the wick.

Take by surprise and the world gives up resistance.

Openings come quickly, sometimes, like blue space in running clouds. A complete overcast, then a blaze of light.

The human heart would never pass the drunk test…. If you took the human heart out of the human body and put a pair of legs on it and told it to walk a straight line, it couldn’t do it.

Some mystery should be left in the revelation of character in a play, just as a great deal of mystery is always left in the revelation of character in life, even in one’s own character to himself.

Time doesn’t take away from true friendship, nor does separation.

Don’t you just love these long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn’t just an hour — but a little bit of eternity dropped in your hands — and who knows what to do with it?

Life is all memory, except for the one present moment that goes by you so quickly you hardly catch it going.

I always said little Truman had a voice so high it could only be detected by bats.

You see, baby, after a glass or two of wine I’m inclined to extravagance.

Bird cage is nice only when it is empty!

Those blue eyes that had stopped my heart the first time she looked at me found me in the crowd.” -Cage

You are not called to be a canary in a cage. You are called to be an eagle, and to fly sun to sun, over continents.

What a cage is to the wild beast, law is to the selfish man.

He opened her cages, and freed the things inside.

But are they protection or a cage? These ribs that ensnare my heart so.

The more you judge others. The more you cage yourself.

He was unhinged. Shameless. Everything wrong and everything right. And he held the key to my cage in his palm.