You build your world around someone, and then what happens when he disappears? Where do you go-into pieces, into atoms, into the arms of another man? You go shopping, you cook dinner, you work odd hours, you make love to someone else on June nights. But you're not really there.

Being an outsider is the one thing we all have in common.

Still anyone who trusts a serpent deserves its bite. The wise see a creature for what it is, not what it says it may be.

He wanted pain, I saw that in him, and what a man wants he will often manage to find.

I must keep my head and not give in to desire, for desire is what causes women to drown.

Remember what I've told you. Remember me.

What else is there to write about than love and loss?