I had a choice. My instincts told me to hurry up and give the choking man the Heimlich maneuver. My brain told me to stay still until he expired and chalk this one up to...

When you are fed with the spoon of betrayal, you can choose to spit it out and live or swallow it and die

Admittedly, art is somewhat like spit. It does not repulse or even worry is while it is still inside of us, but once it exits our body, it becomes disgusting.

In show business, you get chewed up and spit out.

The dragon spits fire, what extinguishes its tears. When we live in rancor, we are born to be old. (Le dragon crache du feu, – Ce qui éteint ses larmes. – Quand on vit de...