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As far back as I can remember, I have worshipped the sun. My skin is fair, but as the years have gone by, it has toughened and darkened. I now turn a rich golden brown every summer, but only after the first day of burning.

I think that there's something really powerful about the sun and its effect on the human psyche. I lived in a place with no windows for twelve years.

I'm not personally obsessed with death. At a certain age, the light that you live in is inhabited by the shades - it 'tis.

My death, taking the light from my eyes, gives back to the day the purity which they soiled.

My earliest memory is aged three, seeing sunlight on water and feeling it was really magical.

I feel as though my life is bathed in golden sunlight. And the really wonderful thing is that I know it.

Human experience resembles the battered moon that tracks us in cycles of light and darkness, of life and death, now seeking out and now stealing away from the sun that gives it light and symbolizes eternity.

I decided to fly through the air and live in the sunlight and enjoy life as much as I could.

And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon life was to me again.