I was seduced by secrets, which are to true love as artificial sweetener is to sugar, calorie-free but in the long run carcinogenic, not the real thing, and only a peculiar aftertaste in the mouth to tell you so, to warn you.

Style is what's there when you look at someone's writing and you know that they wrote it and nobody else did.

Never defend yourself; agree with your critics, it takes the wind out of their sails.

So much for the fruits of love. Love? What's love? Sex, ah, that's another thing. Love has babies: sex has abortions.

Only one thing registers on the subconscious mind: repetitive application - practice. What you practice is what you manifest.

Fiction stretches our sensibilities and our understanding, as mere information never can.

Prudence says one thing, desire says another, and I'd rather go with desire any time.