I have no time for things that have no soul.

I kept telling myself that all the women in the world weren´t whores, just mine.

People were usually much better in their letters than in reality. They were much like poets in this way.

my greatest problem was stamps, envelopes, paper and wine, with the world on the edge of World War II.

nobody can save you but yourself. you will be put again and again into nearly impossible situations. they will attempt again and again through subterfuge, guise and force to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly inside. nobody can save you but yourself

Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you'll never meet them.

human relationships simply aren't durable. I think back to the women in my life. they seem non-existent.