“Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn’t want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn’t want them back.”

Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.

Poets are the sense, philosophers­­ the intelligence­­ of humanity.

Do we mean love, when we say love?

Sometimes I wonder if I’m in my right mind. Then it passes off and I’m as intelligent as ever.

We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. But habit is a great deadener.

Habit is the ballast that chains the dog to his vomit.

If I was dead, I wouldn’t know I was dead. That’s the only thing I have against death. I want to enjoy my death.

That desert of loneliness and recrimination that men call love.

I marshalled the words and opened my mouth, thinking I would hear them. But all I heard was a kind of rattle, unintelligible even to me who knew what was intended.

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

To have been always what I am – and so changed from what I was.

Nothing is more real than nothing.

What do we do now, now that we are happy?

For in me there have always been two fools, among others, one asking nothing better than to stay where he is and the other imagining that life might be slightly less horrible a little further on.

If there is one question I dread, to which I have never been able to invent a satisfactory reply, it is the question what am I doing.

I could not have gone through the awful wretched mess of life without having left a stain upon the silence.

We’re all flawed human beings and we all have a cauldron of psychosis which we have to unravel as we grow older and find the way we fit in to live our lives as best as possible.

What is the best safeguard against false doctrine? The Bible regularly read, regularly prayed over, regularly studied.

The simple fact that you care, that you want to do your best, that you strive to enjoy life and love, this makes you so much more than enough.

I forgive myself for not being perfect. I am living the very best way I know how.

Best productivity tool ever invented? Easy…the word “no”.

I work really hard – that doesn’t mean I deserve anything, but it’s really cool to see the positive reaction people give to something you worked so hard on. It’s one of the best feelings.

The best way to handle responsibility is to break it down into smaller parts. Take care of one small thing at a time.

She wore her scars as her best attire. A stunning dress made of hellfire.