“Pope John Paul II was always a teacher. He taught us many things: how to pray, how to have patience, how to be loving. And I realized something about his last moments… that he was teaching us all how to die.”

“I believe that none of us can conceive the full import of what Christ did for us in Gethsemane, but I am grateful every day of my life for His atoning sacrifice in our behalf. At the last moment, He could have turned back. But He did not. He passed beneath all things that He might save all things. In doing so, He gave us life beyond this mortal existence. He reclaimed us from the Fall of Adam. To the depths of my very soul, I am grateful to Him. He taught us how to live. He taught us how to die. He secured our salvation.”

“I realized that the deepest spiritual lessons are not learned by His letting us have our way in the end, but by His making us wait, bearing with us in love and patience until we are able to honestly to pray what He taught His disciples to pray: Thy will be done.”

“It seems as if no man had ever died in America before, for in order to die you must first have lived. These men, in teaching us how to die, have at the same time taught us how to live.”

“He was teaching me how to die, just as he'd taught me how to live.”

“De herinneringen waren zo talrijk, zo halsstarrig, dat er nauwelijks plaats was voor iets nieuws. Het werd tijd dat er wat herinneringen opgeruimd werden, aan iemand meegegeven of zo, die ze dan weer op zijn beurt in een kuil kon werpen. Een beetje weg ermee.”

“Kunst kent geen compromissen. Kunst moet. En als je niet moet, als je twijfelt, bijvoorbeeld omdat er weinig respons is: onmiddelijk stoppen met die flauwekul. Je moet, als het goed is, van jezelf. Van niemand anders.Je kunt met kunst niet schipperen. Het is alles of niets. Leuk is anders, maar je wou toch zo graag?Je moet net zo lang doorgaan tot ze om je producten komen smeken. En als dat niet het geval is, nou, dan maar niet. Jij moest zo nodig, je hebt in je leven gedaan wat je wou, wat wil je nog meer.”