I don't much care where I am anymore, nor expect very much from places.

There was a kindliness about intoxication - there was that indescribable gloss and glamour it gave, like the memories of ephemeral and faded evenings.

Then I grew up, and the beauty of succulent illusions fell away from me.

People living alone get used to loneliness.

Never befuddle a solitary thrashing with a last annihilation.

They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat's shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.

Your life on earth will be, as always, the interval between two significant glances in a mundane mirror.