“If a woman hasn’t got a tiny streak of harlot in her, she’s a dry stick as a rule.”

Obscenity only comes in when the mind despises and fears the body, and the body hates and resists the mind.

Nobody knows you. You don’t know yourself. And I, who am half in love with you, What am I in love with? My own imaginings?

For my part, I prefer my heart to be broken. It is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.

What the eye doesn’t see and the mind doesn’t know, doesn’t exist.

Recklessness is almost a man’s revenge on his woman.

All hopes of eternity and all gain from the past he would have given to have her there, to be wrapped warm with him in one blanket, and sleep, only sleep. It seemed the sleep with the woman in his arms was the only necessity.

There is nothing to save, now all is lost, but a tiny core of stillness in the heart like the eye of a violet.

One must learn to love, and go through a good deal of suffering to get to it, and the journey is always towards the other soul.

Those that go searching for love only make manifest their own lovelessness, and the loveless never find love, only the loving find love, and they never have to seek for it.

She was not herself–she was not anything. She was something that is going to be–soon–soon–very soon. But as yet, she was only imminent.

For to desire is better than to possess, the finality of the end was dreaded as deeply as it was desired.

A man could no longer be private and withdrawn. The world allows no hermits.

Be a good animal,true to your instincts.

Things men have made with wakened hands, and put soft life into are awake through years with transferred touch, and go on glowing for long years.

I can never decide whether my dreams are the result of my thoughts or my thoughts the result of my dreams.

There’s lots of good fish in the sea, maybe, but the vast masses seem to be mackerel or herring, and if you’re not mackerel or herring yourself, you are likely to find very few good fish in the sea.

Women are like cars: we all want a Ferrari, sometimes want a pickup truck, and end up with a station wagon.

I’ve stepped more into my womanhood, I’m a mother now, I’m having a beautiful relationship as a wife and as a friend.

A forty-year-old woman is only something to men who have loved her in her youth.

It all seemed a hollow sham now – that strict code, that conscientious virtue that condemned her to the sterile joys of pious women! No, no, she’d had enough of that; she wanted to live!

Katy Perry is the sexiest woman I’ve ever kissed. It was amazing and very purple – she had purple lipstick on. I don’t think there will ever be anything cooler than kissing her until I marry her maybe!

I think older women still have a full life.

At fifteen, neither beauty nor talent exist: a woman is all promise.

An entire lifetime would not be long enough for you to exhaust the glance of the young harvest-girl.