I have some women friends but I prefer men. Dont trust women. There is a built-in competition between women.

shadows of love, inebriations of love, foretastes of love, trickles of love, but never yet the one true love.

We hide the truer part of ourselves when we love.

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

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

Irish Catholicism is very much founded on the stone of fear and of punishment.

Love . . . is like nature, but in reverse; first it fruits, then it flowers, then it seems to wither, then it goes deep, deep down into its burrow, where no one sees it, where it is lost from sight, and ultimately people die with that secret buried inside their souls.