“I got to wear blinders all the time so I won’t think sideways or in the past.”

They are the we of me.

I am not meant to be alone and without you who understands.

Coming down was the hardest part of any climbing.

We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange.

the way i need you is a loneliness i cannot bear.

Love is the main generator of all good writing… Love, passion, compassion, are all welded together.

The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen… Now that it was over there was only her heart beating like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.

The seed of the idea is developed by both labor and the unconscious, and the struggle that goes on between them.

It is music that causes the heart to broaden and the listener to grow cold with ecstasy and fright.

Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them trust in anything that might give it to them.

The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!

Love is a joint experience between two persons — but the fact that it is a joint experience does not mean that it is a similar experience to the two people involved.

We are homesick most for the places we have never known.

Being human, she suffered from this lack and did what she could to make up for it. If she passed the evening bent over a table in the library and later declared that she had spent that time playing cards, it was as though she had managed to do both those things.

But you haven’t never loved God nor even nair person. You hard and tough as cowhide. But just the same I knows you. This afternoon you going to roam all over the place without never being satisfied.

There’s nothing that makes you so aware of the improvisation of human existence as a song unfinished. Or an old address book.