“Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting.”

The things I believed in dont exist any more. It’s foolish to pretend that they do. Western Civilization finally went up in smoke in the chimneys at Dachau but I was too infatuated to see it. I see it now.

Best way to live in California is to be from somewheres else.

The wind sounded of Mother Earth’s forsaken and abandoned cries.

They spoke less and less between them until at last they were silent altogether as is often the way with travelers approaching the end of a journey.

What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would return.

You have to carry the fire.” I don’t know how to.” Yes, you do.” Is the fire real? The fire?” Yes it is.” Where is it? I don’t know where it is.” Yes you do. It’s inside you. It always was there. I can see it.

There is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road there to.

Anything that doesn’t take years of your life and drive you to suicide hardly seems worth doing.

We think we are the victims of time. In reality, the way of the world isn’t fixed anywhere. How could that be possible? We are our own journey. And therefore we are time as well. We are the same. Fugitive. Inscrutable. Ruthless.

The closest bonds we will ever know are bonds of grief. The deepest community one of sorrow.

She said that these were things all women knew yet seldom spoke of. Lastly she said that if women were drawn to rash men it was only that in their secret hearts they knew that a man who would not kill for them was of no use at all.

I always thought when I got older that God would sort of come into my life in some way. He didn’t. I don’t blame him. If I was him I’d have the same opinion about me that he does.

He’d half meant to speak but those eyes had altered the world forever in the space of a heartbeat.

You fix what you can fix and you let the rest go. If there ain’t nothin to be done about it it aint even a problem. It’s just a aggravation.

If only my heart were stone.

Life is brief and to have to spend every day of it doing what somebody else wants you to do is not the way to live it.

In dreams begin responsibilitiy.

At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.

I have observed dreams and visions very carefully, and am now certain that the imagination has some way of lighting on the truth that the reason has not, and that its commandments, delivered when the body is still and the reason silent, are the most binding we can ever know.

The visible world is no longer a reality and the unseen world no longer a dream.

If I dream I have you, I have you, for all our joys are but fantastical.

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master.

In the waking dreams our societies permit, in our myths, our arts, our songs, we celebrate the nonbelongers, the different ones, the outlaws, the freaks.

Among the great struggles of man-good/evil, reason/unreason, etc.-there is also this mighty conflict between the fantasy of Home and the fantasy of Away, the dream of roots and the mirage of the journey.