You don't bless what you love...It's when you want to love and you can't manage it. You stretch out your hands and you say God forgive me that I can't love but bless this thing anyway...We have to bless what we hate...It would be better to love, but that's not always possible.

It is impossible to go through life without trust: that is to be imprisoned in the worst cell of all, oneself.

Perhaps the sexual life is the great test. If we can survive it with charity to those we love and with affection to those we have betrayed, we needn't worry so much about the good and the bad in us. But jealousy, distrust, cruelty, revenge, recrimination ... then we fail. The wrong is in that failure even if we are the victims and not the executioners. Virtue is no excuse.

A brain is only capable of what it could conceive, andit couldnt concieve what it hasnt experienced

You needn't be so scared. Love doesn't end. Just because we don't see each other.

So much of life [is] a putting-off of unhappiness for another time. Nothing [is] ever lost by delay.

My two fingers on a typewriter have never connected with my brain. My hand on a pen does. A fountain pen, of course. Ball-point pens are only good for filling out forms on a plane.