Only a struggle twists sentimentality and lust together into love.

Don't be mysterious; there isn't the time.

I only wish the poets would say this too: love is of the body; not the body, but of the the body. Ah! the misery that would be saved if we confessed that! Ah! for a little directness to liberate the soul!

One has two duties - to be worried and not to be worried.

We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

Railway termini are our gates to the glorious and the unknown. Through them we pass out into adventure and sunshine, to them, alas! we return.

We are willing enough to praise freedom when she is safely tucked away in the past and cannot be a nuisance. In the present, amidst dangers whose outcome we cannot foresee, we get nervous about her, and admit censorship.