I don't like people," said Velvet. "... I only like horses.
Isn't the fear of pain next brother to pain itself?
After forty years of marriage we still stood with broken swords in our hands.
It's not till sex has died out between a man and a woman that they can really love. And now I mean affection. Now I mean to be fond of (as one is fond of oneself) --to hope, to be disappointed, to live inside the other heart.
But I had been in love pretty often and I didn't think it stood the wear and tear.
Why do birds sing in the morning? It's the triumphant shout: 'We got through another night!'