“You love me so much, you want to put me in your pocket. And there I will die smothered.”

You’re always begging things to love you, he said, as if you were a beggar for love. Even the flowers, you have to fawn on them–

What liars poets and everybody were! They made one think one wanted sentiment. When what one supremely wanted was this piercing, consuming, rather awful sensuality.

One could laugh at the world better if it didn’t mix tender kindliness with its brutality.

The world is a raving idiot, and no man can kill it: though I’ll do my best. But you’re right. We must rescue ourselves as best we can.

There is no pornography without a secrecy.

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.

To die laughing must be the most glorious of all glorious deaths!

If happiness always depends on something expected in the future, we are chasing a will-o’-the-wisp that ever eludes our grasp, until the future, and ourselves, vanish into the abyss of death.

Total peace after death, becoming someone else, is the best hope I’ve got.

Respect me, or put me to death.

Sometimes, love feels like a life or death situation. Losing true love is pretty much as bad as it gets, other than actually dying or losing good health. Most people know that. Most people can relate. It’s like the end of the world.

My death will be the disappearance of a particular pattern in the water.

Full of life I can steal grant a death wish.

In truth,there was only one christian and he died on the cross.