If I have an unusual gift, it’s not that I draw particularly better than other people — I’ve never fooled myself about that. Rather it’s that I remember things other people don’t recall: the sounds and feelings and images — the emotional quality — of particular moments in childhood. Happily an essential part of myself — my dreaming life — still lives in the light of childhood.

The day after Paul Newman was dead, he was twice as dead.

Then from far away across the world he smelled good things to eat, so he gave up being king of the wild things.