I'm sick of my own romanticism!

The bed must be a beautiful place, not only because you make love there but because you dream there as well.

Societies in decline have no use for visionaries.

Secrets. Need to disguise. The novel was born of this.

Our psychological reality, which lies below the surface, frightens us because it endlessly surprises us and drives us in a direction which society's rules and organizations define as wrong or dangerous.

I have seen romanticism outlast the realistic. I have seen men forget the beautiful women they have possessed, forget the prostitutes, and remember the first woman they idolized, the woman they could never have. The woman who aroused them romantically holds them.

To think of him in the middle of the day lifts me out of ordinary living.