Sex is the root of which intuition is the foliage and beauty is the flower.

I've never seen a wild thing feel sorry for itself.

If you believe in your own sex, and won't have it done dirt to: they'll down you. It's the one insane taboo left: sex as a naturaland vital thing.

And besides, look at elder flowers and bluebells-they are a sign that pure creation takes place - even the butterfly. But humanity never gets beyond the caterpillar stage -it rots in the chrysalis, it never will have wings.It is anti-creation, like monkeys and baboons.

In the end, for congenial sympathy, for poetry, for work, for original feeling and expression, for perfect companionship with one's friends--give me the country.

The mind has no existence by itself; it is only the glitter of the sun on the surface of the waters.

The tragedy is when you've got sex in the head instead of down where it belongs.