A man's sorrow runs uphill; true it is difficult for him to bear, but it is also difficult for him to keep.

Matthew,' she said, 'have you ever loved someone and it became yourself?' For a moment he did not answer. Taking up the decanter he held it to the light. 'Robin can go anywhere, do anything,' Nora continued, 'because she forgets, and I nowhere because I remember.' She came toward him. 'Matthew,' she said, 'you think I have always been like this. Once I was remorseless, but this is another love — it goes everywhere; there is no place for it to stop — it rots me away.

Only the impossible lasts forever.

Dreams have only the pigmentation of fact.

This head has risen above its hair in a moment of abandon known only to men who have drawn their feet out of their boots to walk awhile in the corridors of the mind.

To love without criticism is to be betrayed.

Why is it that whenever I hear music I think I’m a bride?