And he would listen, making only a few comments, always sympathetic, so that when I left him I had the distinct impression he had solved everything for me.

I love New Orleans physically. I love the trees and the balmy air and the beautiful days. I have a beautiful house here.

When we talk about our lives, long or short, brief and tragic or enduring beyond comprehension, we impose a continuity on them, and that continuity is a lie.

I know nothing, because I know too much, and understand not nearly enough and never will.

Curses of vanished elders echoed down on me; too pretty, too soft, too pale, eyes far too full of the Devil, ah, that devilish smile

I am certain a great many believers and bible readers do believe in social justice.

I can’t help being a gorgeous fiend. It’s just the card I drew.