“Read for yourselves, read for the sake of your inspiration, for the sweet turmoil in your lovely head. But also read against yourselves, read for questioning and impotence, for despair and erudition, read the dry sardonic remarks of cynical philosophers like Cioran or even Carl Schmitt, read newspapers, read those who despise, dismiss or simply ignore poetry and try to understand why they do it. Read your enemies, read those who reinforce your sense of what's evolving in poetry, and also read those whose darkness or malice or madness or greatness you can't understand because only in this way will you grow, outlive yourself, and become what you are.”

“I've been relying very heavily on my instincts as of late, and my songwriting has come to depend on my ability to surrender to the inspiration whenever it strikes. When I clear my mind and let the music take over, my hands seem to move on their own, and my voice utters words I haven't premeditated. This is pure instinct. It's like riding a wave. You just take a deep breath, hop on, and hang on as long as you can. That's basically how I songwrite when I'm composing impromptu pieces. It's a lot like channeling. Or free associating. And it's super fun, because anything can happen! It's pure creativity.”

“Life is fury, he'd thought. Fury — sexual, Oedipal, political, magical, brutal — drives us to our finest heights and coarsest depths. Out of furia comes creation, inspiration, originality, passion, but also violence, pain, pure unafraid destruction, the giving and receiving of blows from which we never recover. The Furies pursue us; Shiva dances his furious dance to create and also to destroy. But never mind about gods! Sara ranting at him represented the human spirit in its purest, least socialized form. This is what we are, what we civilize ourselves to disguise — the terrifying human animal in us, the exalted, transcendent, self-destructive, untramelled lord of creation.”

“Jenny and I have been talking for years about what makes projects fail, and how to change the way we build software so that our projects succeed. When we were working together, we'd spend hours trying to figure out the root causes of our problems. And then, after we moved on to different organizations, we saw the same exact problems over and over again! We talked to a lot of people, and read a lot about project management techniques and practices. We expected to just fix our own problems, but discovered that everyone seems to suffer from the same ones. Something had to be done about this, and that was the inspiration for the book.”

“[Xiu Xiu have a taste for discord — atonal arrangements filled with foghorns, tape hisses, and violent beats and topped off by Stewart’s whispery vocals and the melodrama of his confessional lyrics. The latter have inspired open-mouthed fandom from sensitive scenesters who find solace in his pain, and attacks from critics as being cloying and histrionic.] People have thrown lit cigarettes at me and audiences have yelled all kinds of nasty shit, ... Then there are also people who drive 800 miles to come see us play and ask if they can come sit in our van for three days because they don’t have a bus ride home.”

“I wrote the film right out of film school when I was 23. It's mainly a detective movie, from my point of view. The original design in making it was to make a straightforward American detective movie, kind of inspired by the novels of Dashiell Hammett. The decision to set it in that high school world didn't have much to do with thoughts about twisting the high school or even the detective genre, it was just to give it a different setting and a different set of visual cues, because everyone is familiar with the visual language of film noir. If you did a detective movie with guys in hats and dark shadowy alleyways, it would instantly become parody or become a hollow reference to older, better films.”

Yet our world of abundance, with seas of wine and alps of bread, has hardly turned out to be the ebullient place dreamt of by our ancestors in the famine-stricken years of the Middle Ages. The brightest minds spend their working lives simplifying or accelerating functions of unreasonable banality. Engineers write theses on the velocities of scanning machines and consultants devote their careers to implementing minor economies in the movements of shelf-stackers and forklift operators. The alcohol-inspired fights that break out in market towns on Saturday evenings are predictable symptoms of fury at our incarceration. They are a reminder of the price we pay for our daily submission at the altars of prudence and order - and of the rage that silently accumulates beneath a uniquely law-abiding and compliant surface.

I grew up thinking the only scriptures on earth were those inspired by the Hebrew prophets of the Old Testament, the words and letters of Jesus and his apostles, and the scriptures of the Restoration. But how could the God I believed was the loving God of all the earth not speak somehow to everyone else? For years I wrestled with this idea. Having now read the Chinese classics, certainly Confucius, but others as well, I believe I have found the scriptural infusion God gave the Chinese nation. Mencius is my favorite, I must admit, and I do not hesitate to call what he bestowed upon the world scripture--some of the most optimistic, holy writing the world has.

You ruin your life by desensitizing yourself. We are all afraid to say too much, to feel too deeply, to let people know what they mean to us. Caring is not synonymous with crazy. Expressing to someone how special they are to you will make you vulnerable. There is no denying that. However, that is nothing to be ashamed of. There is something breathtakingly beautiful in the moments of smaller magic that occur when you strip down and are honest with those who are important to you. Let that girl know that she inspires you. Tell your mother you love her in front of your friends. Express, express, express. Open yourself up, do not harden yourself to the world, and be bold in who, and how you love. There is courage in that.

Since belief is measured by action, he who forbids us to believe religion to be true, necessarily also forbids us to act as we should if we did believe it to be true. The whole defence of religious faith hinges upon action. If the action required or inspired by the religious hypothesis is in no way different from that dictated by the naturalistic hypothesis, then religious faith is a pure superfluity, better pruned away, and controversy about its legitimacy is a piece of idle trifling, unworthy of serious minds. I myself believe, of course, that the religious hypothesis gives to the world an expression which specifically determines our reactions, and makes them in a large part unlike what they might be on a purely naturalistic scheme of belief.