Our final experience, like our first, is conjectural. We move between two darkness's.
I don't know what to think until I see what I've said.
There are occasions when I would rather feel like a fly than a spider.
Sometimes I think too much fuss is made about marriage. Century after century of carnal embracement and we're still no nearer to understanding one another.
Of course he despised the world as a whole; every thoughtful man should; it is almost a test of refinement.
Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its highest. Live in fragments no longer