“Blame it or praise it, there is no denying the wild horse in us.”

I like to have space to spread my mind out in.

She dares me to pour myself out like a living waterfall. She dares me to enter the soul that is more than my own; she extinguishes fear in mere seconds. She lets light come through.

The most extraordinary thing about writing is that when you’ve struck the right vein, tiredness goes. It must be an effort, thinking wrong.

Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size.

I like people to be unhappy because I like them to have souls.

I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.

The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.

The truth is, I often like women. I like their unconventionality. I like their completeness. I like their anonymity.

Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I’m never not thinking of you.

I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.

Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title.

Anything may happen when womanhood has ceased to be a protected occupation.

I don’t believe in aging. I believe in forever altering one’s aspect to the sun.

Marvelous are the innocent.

Fear no more, says the heart.

She always had the feeling that it was very, very dangerous to live even one day.