“Wow! This place sure is crawlin’ with celebrities. I’m the only person here I never heard of.”
An ongoing digital archive of 1,374 items (and counting) proving that I read, I saw, and I actually paid attention.
“Wow! This place sure is crawlin’ with celebrities. I’m the only person here I never heard of.”
“The act of salvation is never performed, because anyone with the strength to carry it out is unaware that they must do it, and the knowing person is incapable of action.”

“I would love to have had one more conversation with your father before he passed away, because I also would like to apologize to him because I’m sure I was also part of his suffering.” “Well, you’re 89, so you’ll get to tell him soon.”
“With a capital T, and that gotsta rhyme with a P, and that stands for pool!”

“Sometimes it is the evidence, the spectacle of another person’s grief that harrows you, more than the loss itself.”
“I would like to be a spoiled rich white girl. They get what they want, whenever they want it. They don’t have to really struggle with finances, nice things, nice clothes, and they don’t have to have that as a problem.”
“For Blue there are no boundaries or solutions.”

“Is it any wonder that so many of us, after a busy week of work, opt for a change of scene, as often as we can, rather than stay put and build the kind of community that we find so appealing elsewhere? The 17th-century French thinker Blaise Pascal suggested that this was down to humankind’s ‘secret instinct which impels them to seek amusement and occupation abroad.’ Alongside this urge, Pascal wrote, stood a contradictory pillar of self-knowledge: ‘That happiness in reality consists only of rest, and not in stir.’ In the case of the village mentality the contradiction is evident: We want the deep peace of belonging, but our itchy feet undermine our ability to put in the hours.”

“When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone.”
“At some point, you have to set down the past. At some point, you have to accept that everyone was doing their best. At some point, you have to gather yourself up, and go onward into your life.”
“Fuck green card! I don’t even want to be an American. The trains are so slow and I never know how much to tip.”
“Arriving to my hotel that night, I was terribly impressed. As much as art was introducing me to new realms of thinking and seeing, it also really seemed to be getting me places. Over 30 years later, and after editing my first recorded conversation with the woman who has since become the grande dame of art collecting, I now realize that it must have felt the same for Ingvild Goetz. The journeys, the encounters, the stimulation she had enjoyed—talking about all this now she emanated a deep gratefulness. Even opening a public museum in one’s front yard is something she could still recommend. And why not? ‘Honestly,’ she says in our interview from page 190, ‘in all the years since, not a single guest has misbehaved.’”