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.

All my life I had feared imprisonment, the nun's cell, the hospital bed, the places where one faced the self without distraction, without the crutches of other people.

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

...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.

I am obsessive, also I am industrious. Besides, the time when you are most alive and most aware is in childhood and one is trying to recapture that heightened awareness.

It was the first time that I came face to face with madness and feared it and was fascinated by it.