So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star.

An artist is someone who can hold two opposing viewpoints and still remain fully functional.

She looked at me and laughed pointlessly. Then she flounced over to the dog, kissed it with ecstasy, and swept into the kitchen, implying that a dozen chefs awaited her orders there.

The water reached up for her, pulled her down tenderly out of the heat, seeped in her hair and ran into the corners of her body. She turned round and round in it, embracing it, wallowing in it.

A big man has no time really to do anything but just sit and be big.

That's the whole burden of this novel - the loss of those illusions that give such color to the world that you don't care whether things are true or false as long as they partake of the magical glory.

Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you