She was fully, painfully aware that very rarely did midnight strike in two hearts at once, very rarely did midnight arouse two different equal desires, and that any dislocation in this, any indifference, was an indication of disunity, of the difficulties, the impossibilities of fusion between two human beings.

If you are terribly truthful, the ground will always move from under you, and you will have to shift with the constantly shifting truth.

The only transformer and alchemist that turns everything into gold is love. The only magic against death, aging, ordinary life, is love.

Death from disillusion is not instantaneous, and there are no mercy killers for the disillusioned.

All unlived emotions turn to inanity.

Also, I do not like the companionship of women. They are petty and personal. They hang on to their mysteries and secrets, they act and pretend. I like the character of men better.

... and the very folds of the curtains contained secrets and sighs.