The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place: from the sky from the earth from a scrap of paper from a passing shape from a spider's web.
I've got a great ambition to die of exhaustion rather than boredom.
Oh give us the man who sings at his work.
A man willing to work and unable to find work is perhaps the saddest sight...
Reform is not pleasant but grievous no person can reform themselves without...
Girls are telling me to take my shirt off. It's like, 'Hello! I'm a...
In a sense, there's a great truth to that, but,...
I'm delighted. I don't know of anybody who had a...
