In every relationship, sooner or later, there is a court scene. Accusations, counter-accusations, a trial, a verdict.

I believe that in judging our actions we are more severe than professional judges. We judge not only our actions, but our thoughts, our intentions, our secret curses, our hidden hate.

Why do I doubt her? Perhaps she is just very sensitive, and hypersensitive people are false when others doubt them; they waver. And one thinks them insincere. Yet I want to believe her. At the same time it does not seem so very important that she should love me. It is not her role. I am so filled with my love of her. And at the same time I feel that I am dying. Our love would be death. The embrace of imaginings.

Since desire always goes towards that which is our direct opposite, it forces us to love that which will make us suffer.

How well I know with what burning intensity you live. You have experienced many lives already, including several you have shared with me- full rich lives from birth to death, and you just have to have these rest periods in between.

I spell 'god' with a small 'g' because I do not believe in him, but I love to swear by him.

When you make a world tolerable for yourself, you make a world tolerable for others.