Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

There is a resemblance between men and women, not a contrast. When a man begins to recognize his feeling, the two unite. When men accept the sensitive side of themselves, they come alive.

People living deeply have no fear of death.

We love best those who are, or act for us, a self we do not wish to be or act out.

What a mystery this is, desire. The love sickness, the sensitivity, the obsession, the flutter of the heart, the ebb and flow of the blood. There is no drug and no alcohol to equal it.

Stories are the only enchantment possible, for when we begin to see our suffering as a story, we are saved.

I believe that men are generally still a little afraid of the dark though the witches are all hung, and Christianity and candles have been introduced.