Writers really live in the mind and in hotels of the soul.
What matters is the imaginative truth.
...people liking you or not liking you is an accident and is to do with them and not you. That goes for love too, only more so.
literature is the last banquet between minds.
I always want to be in love, always. It's like being a tuning fork.
If the Holy Communion touched my teeth, I thought that was a mortal sin