“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do.”

My blood is a miracle that, from my veins, crosses the air in my heart into yours.

They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.

Everyone’s opinions about things change over time. Nothing is constant. Everything changes. And to hold onto some dogged idea forever is a little rigid and maybe naive.

My painting carries with it the message of pain.

They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.

Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are a bourbon biscuit.

I hope the leaving is joyful; and I hope never to return.

Sexism and racism are parallel problems. You can compare them in some ways, but they’re not at all the same. But they’re both symptoms inside the white male power structure.

At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.

I am that clumsy human, always loving, loving, loving. And loving. And never leaving.

I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you.

What I wanted to express very clearly and intensely was that the reason these people had to invent or imagine heroes and gods is pure fear. Fear of life and fear of death.

I never paint dreams or nightmares. I paint my own reality.

I drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim.

I wish I could do whatever I liked behind the curtain of madness.

People in general are scared to death of the war and all the exhibition have been a failure, because the rich – don’t want to buy anything.

When people ask me if I went to film school I tell them, ‘no, I went to films.’

God loves to take people from broken backgrounds and surprise them with possibilities.

When you get before great people you don’t talk a lot, you ask questions.

You need to keep people close. You need to give them access to your heart.

But there’s one thing we must all be clear about: terrorism is not the pursuit of legitimate goals by some sort of illegitimate means. Whatever the murderers may be trying to achieve, creating a better world certainly isn’t one of their goals. Instead they are out to murder innocent people.

Seeking support from friends and and family is like having people gathered around at your deathbed. It’s nice, but when the ship sails, all they can do is stand on the dock waving goodbye.

Don’t write what you think people want to read. Find your voice and write about what’s in your heart.

I tire so of hearing people say, Let things take their course. Tomorrow is another day. I do not need my freedom when I’m dead. I cannot live on tomorrow’s bread.