Artistic temperament sometimes seems a battleground, a dark angel of destruction and a bright angel of creativity wrestling.
We have much to be judged on when he comes, slums and battlefields and insane asylums, but these are the symptoms of our illness and the result of our failures in love.
When the bright angel dominates, out comes a great work of art, a Michelangelo David or a Beethoven symphony.
With each book I write, I become more and more convinced that the books have a life of their own, quite apart from me.
We can't take any credit for our talents. It's how we use them that counts.
I like the fact that in ancient Chinese art the great painters always included a deliberate flaw in their work: human creation is never perfect.
That's the way things come clear. All of a sudden. And then you realize how obvious they've been all along.
When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability... To be alive is to be vulnerable.
The great thing about getting older is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been.
Conversion for me was not a Damascus Road experience. I slowly moved into an intellectual acceptance of what my intuition had always known.
In the evening of life we shall be judged on love, and not one of us is going to come off very well, and were it not for my absolute faith in the loving forgiveness of my Lord I could not call on him to come.
It is the ability to choose which makes us human.