My Mother-in-Law, Mary, died last week, after a short but painful battle with cancer. She had a good life, with the usual happiness and sadness that we all experience but at 88 was ready to go. It'll be a sad week as she will be buried on Wednesday and unfortunately there is another family funeral on Tuesday. This poem by Joyce Grenfell pretty much sums up what she would have said to us given the chance, so I'm including it here in her memory :)
Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows.
Select only things to steal from that speak directly to your soul. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is non-existent. And don't bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it.
In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to."