How many pages have I produced? I don't care. Are they any good? I don't even think about it. All that matters is I've put in my time and hit it with… - Steven Pressfield

To labor in the arts for any reason other than love is prostitution.

Of any activity you do, ask yourself: If I were the last person on earth, would I still do it?

Never forget, Alexandros, that this flesh, this body, does not belong to us. Thank God it doesn’t. If I thought this stuff was mine, I could not advance a pace into the face of the enemy. But it is not ours, my friend. It belongs to the gods and to our children, our fathers and mothers and those of Lakedaemon a hundred, a thousand years yet unborn. It belongs to the city which gives us all we have and demands no less in requital.