I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, "Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.

You’re my religion. You’re all I’ve got.

My heart's broken,' he thought. 'If I feel this way my heart must be broken.

Go all the way with it. Do not back off. For once, go all the goddamn way with what matters.

Everything that a painter did or that a writer wrote was a part of his training and preparation for what he was to do.

A girl came in the cafe and sat by herself at a table near the window. She was very pretty with a face fresh as a newly minted coin if they minted coins in smooth flesh with rain-freshened skin, and her hair black as a crow's wing and cut sharply and diagonally across her cheek.

I’m not brave any more darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me.