I like to write when I feel spiteful; it's like having a good sneeze.

Only the flow matters; live and let live, love and let love. There is no point in love.

The nice clean intimacy which we now so admire between the sexes is sterilizing. It makes neuters. Later on, no deep, magical sex-life is possible.

The Sphinx-riddle. Solve it, or be torn to bits, is the decree.

To our senses, the elements are four and have ever been, and will ever be for they are the elements of life, of poetry, and of perception, the four Great Ones, the Four Roots, the First Four of Fire and the Wet, Earth and the wide Air of the World. To find the other many elements, you must go to the laboratory and hunt them down. But the four we have always with us, they are our world. Or rather, they have us with them.

It is our business to go as we are impelled.

For us to go to Italy and to penetrate into Italy is like a most fascinating act of self-discovery