De wiegen der beschaving zijn de verpestende riolen van de wereld, het knekelhuis waarin de stinkende baarmoeders hun bloederige pakjes vlees en been toevertrouwen.

I am following Nature without being able to grasp her, I perhaps owe having become a painter to flowers.

The steep tiled roof had grown dark and mossy with age and rain. The triangular wooden frames fitted into the gables were intricately carved, the light that slanted through them and fell in patterns on the floor was full of secrets. Wolves. Flowers. Iguanas. Changing shape as the sun moved through the sky. Dying punctually at Dusk.

I&#39;m not driven by money and I&#39;m not driven by career.

Written By Richard O'Brien

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Written By Richard O&#39;Brien

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Written By Richard O'Brien