Stars on our door, stars in our eyes, stars exploding in the bits of our brains where the common sense should have been

I think it's one of the scars in our culture that we have too high an opinion of ourselves. We align ourselves with the angels instead of the higher primates.

I always used to suffer a great deal if I let myself get too close to reality since the definitive world of the everyday with itshard edges and harsh light did not have enough resonance to echo the demands I made upon experience. It was as if I never experienced experience as experience. Living never lived up to the expectations I had of it--the Bovary syndrome.

I should have liked to have had him beside me in a glass coffin, so that I could watch him all the time and he would not have been able to get away from me.

There are lots of things that you can brush under the carpet about yourself until you're faced with somebody whose needs won't be put off.

Before he can become a wolf, the lycanthrope strips naked. If you spy a naked man among the pines, you must run as if the Devil were after you.

He was a lovely man in many ways. But he kept on insisting on forgiving me when there was nothing to forgive.