I grew up thinking there was one unpardonable sin – to be boring.

Probably the only place where a man can feel really secure is in a maximum security prison, except for the imminent threat of release.

Guilt is one side of a nasty triangle; the other two are shame and stigma. This grim coalition combines to inculpate women themselves of the crimes committed against them.

I have always been principally interested in men for sex. I've always thought any sane woman would be a lover of women because loving men is such a mess. I have always wished I'd fall in love with a woman. Damn.

We still make love to organs and not people; that so far from realising that people are never more idiosyncratic, never more totally there when they make love, we re never more incommunicative, never more alone.

One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night.

The tragedy of machismo is that a man is never quite man enough.