I love Italian opera - it's so reckless. Damn Wagner, and his bellowings at Fate and death. Damn Debussy, and his averted face. I like the Italians who run all on impulse, and don't care about their immortal souls, and don't worry about the ultimate.

One realm we have never conquered: the pure present.

In America the cohesion was a matter of choice and will. But in Europe it was organic.

We have buried so much of the delicate magic of life.

Without secrecy there would be no pornography. But secrecy and modesty are two utterly different things.

And woman is the same as horses: two wills act in opposition inside her. With one will she wants to subject herself utterly. With the other she wants to bolt, and pitch her rider to perdition.

Towns oftener swamp one than carry one out onto the big ocean of life.