The artist, like the God of the creation, remains within or behind or beyond or above his handiwork, invisible, refined out of existence, indifferent, paring his fingernails.

To write is to make sense of the chaos.

The secret of great fortunes without apparent cause is a crime forgotten, for it was properly done.

I do not wish them [women] to have power over men; but over themselves.

To write is to confront the ghosts of the past and the uncertainties of the future.

Diversity in forest species mirrors the diversity needed in business thinking.