When you came, you were like red wine and honey, and the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.

Sexual love is the most stupendous fact of the universe, and the most magical mystery our poor blind senses know.

You are ice and fire the touch of you burns my hands like snow.

Everything mortal has moments immortal

Don’t ask a writer what he’s working on. It’s like asking someone with cancer on the progress of his disease.

I should like to bring a case to trial: Prosperity versus Beauty, Cash registers teetering in a balance against the comfort of the soul.

How hard, how desperately hard, is the way of the experimenter in art!