There was always a real reason for everything - why spoons tarnished, and jam furred, and people declined into God, or drink, or card games.

Darkness is drawn to light, but light does not know it; light must absorb the darkness and therefore meet its own extinguishment.

When you fall in love, it is spring no matter when. Leaves falling make no difference, they are from another season.

That is the mystery about writing: it comes out of afflictions, out of the gouged times, when the heart is cut open.

August is a wicked month.

She said the reason that love is so painful is that it always amounts to two people wanting more than two people can give.

My hand does the work and I dont have to think; in fact, were I to think, it would stop the flow. Its like a dam in the brain that bursts.