For I must tell you that we artists cannot tread the path of Beauty without Eros keeping company with us and appointing himself as our guide.

Those who tread among serpents, and along a tortuous path, must use the cunning of the serpent.

Beauty can pierce one like a pain.

We cannot hold a torch to light another's path without brightening our own.

Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry. But also, it gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse, the illicit, the absurd.

We rely on our purveyors to tell us what's available and what's good.