Everything becomes so problematic because of basic faults: from a discontent with myself.

Everything becomes so problematic because of basic faults: from a discontent with myself.

In our dreams we can have our eggs cooked exactly how we want them, but we can't eat them.

Sex is something you do. Sexuality is something you are.

What I have always wanted for myself is much more primitive. It is probably nothing more than the affection of the people with whom I am in contact, and their good opinion of me.

Why do we go around acting as though everything was friendship and reliability when basically everything everywhere is full of sudden hate and ugliness?

Who promised you that only for joy were you brought to this earth?