Pursuit is a rather desperate act in itself. There's something kind of frantic about the notion of pursuit.

If you know anything about ducks, you know a baby duck will imprint itself on you. It misses its mother.

There is something very unique in American iconography about this notion of the pursuit of happiness.

The creative act is also in a small way a suffering act - we start out with our ego, this hope of making this thing whatever it be, but so often it eludes us and it collapses and we kind of regress into this mental suffering, we can't find what we're looking for.

People seem to take as much offence as they possibly can these days - it's almost a new type of greed, a new kind of road rage.

Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.