“Memories should be sharp when one has nothing else to live for.”

I take a sun bath and listen to the hours, formulating, and disintegrating under the pines, and smell the resiny hardihood of the high noon hours. The world is lost in a blue haze of distances, and the immediate sleeps in a thin and finite sun.

And only weaklings who lack courage and the power to feel they’re right when the whole world says they’re wrong, ever lose.

A vacuum can only exist, I imagine, by the things which enclose it.

I wish I could write a beautiful book to break those hearts that are soon to cease to exist: a book of faith and small neat worlds and of people who live by the philosophies of popular songs.

I play the radio and moon about…and dream of Utopias where its always July the 24th 1935, in the middle of summer forever.

Women sometimes seem to share a quiet, unalterable dogma of persecution that endows even the most sophisticated of them with the inarticulate poignancy of the peasant.

They hadn’t much faith in travel, nor a great belief in a change of scene as a panacea for spiritual ills; they were simply glad to be going.

By the time a person has achieved years adequate for choosing a direction, the die is cast and the moment has long since passed which determined the future.

Anything incomprehensible has a sexual significance to many people under thirty-five.

She quietly expected great things to happen to her, and no doubt that’s one of the reasons why they did.

It’s terrible to allow conventional habits to gain a hold on a whole household; to eat, sleep and live by clock ticks.

Something in me vibrates to a dusky, dreamy smell of dying moons and shadows.

Why is there happiness and comfort and excitement where you are and no where else in the world.

Pronunciation has made many an innocent word sound like a doctor’s orders for a stomach pump.

Experience teaches you how to do things you never want to do again.

Oh, the secret life of man and woman–dreaming how much better we would be than we are if we were somebody else or even ourselves, and feeling that our estate has been unexploited to its fullest.

History is a pact between the dead, the living, and the yet unborn.

You thought it wouldn’t live again. But it will live again.

You’d be surprised how many people want to hang an electric chair on their living-room wall. Specially if the background color matches the drapes.

For what it’s worth, it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. I hope you live a life you’re proud of and if you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start over.

Living for today will bring about dying for today. You can’t just think, ‘I’m going to die anyway,’ because that’s what’s stopping us from moving forward.

The wonderful living Word of God is more precious than anything else that we have.

God has plans and purposes for each of our lives. But the beauty is that He doesn’t call us and leave us on our own. Jesus actually lives in us to pull off the amazing things that He has invited us into.

Your soul doesn’t care what you do for a living – and when your life is over, neither will you. Your soul cares only about what you are being while you are doing whatever you are doing.