“Silence is of the gods; only monkeys chatter.”

“I don't act, anyway. The stuff is all injected as we go along. My pictures are made without script or written directions of any kind”

“Down through the years my face has been called a sour puss, a dead pan, a frozen face, The Great Stone Face, and, believe it or not, "a tragic mask." On the other hand that kindly critic, the late James Agee, described my face as ranking "almost with Lincoln's as an early American archetype, it was haunting, handsome, almost beautiful." I can't imagine what the great rail splitter's reaction would have been to this, though I sure was pleased.”

“Powell's Panic- a condition when one's been away from Powell's bookstore for too long.”

“What is perfection, anyway? It's the death of creativity, that's what I think, while change on the other hand, is the cornerstone of new ideas. God knows I want new ideas and new experiences”

“Don't be afraid."And then we were gone.Weightless.The ground at my feet suddenly disappeared along with everything else.A scream lodged in my throat, coming out broken and pathetic.And then we were sitting on a wide ledge. High above Jackson Square. Christ, he'd blinked me to - I gazed above me.Not just a ledge. Oh God, oh God, oh God."It helps if you breathe.""I think I might kill you," I said in a near whisper.Sebastian's shoulder bumped mine as he tried to hide a smile. "Well, you've got time, because we'll be up here for an hour or so before I have enough power again to get us down. I didn't think you'd be afraid of heights."I glared at him. "I'm not afraid of heights. I am, apparently, afraid of disappearing from solid ground and then reappearing on a ledge.”

“He pressed his lips against hers and closing his own eyes, ignoring the pain in his side, and the uncertainty in his chest he mouthed,‘I love my Princess. I love my Jocelyn. Love you and only you from now until forever.”