anybody who drinks seriously is poor: so poor, poor, extra poor, me.

anybody who drinks seriously is poor: so poor, poor, extra poor, me.

I am unable, mentally incapable, of relating the dead thing, the broken body refusing to divulge why or where the occupant has gone, to the thing that was alive.

[On journalists:] They are the scavengers of society who, possessing no guts of their own, tear out the guts of celebrities. They have the sycophantic, false enthusing gush of maiden aunts: who are accustomed to being trampled on doormats.

Virtue in a man doesn't make you want to grab him.

Jealousy is the lifelong noose hanging about the neck of love.

One should never go back to a place one has loved; for, however, rough the going forward is, it is better than the snuffing out-of-love return.