My guess is that she is uncomfortable in such an intransigent world but is unable to live accordingly to her own desire.

I don't want to be loved. I want to be desired. Love is safety, but desire is foul.

Falling in love was simple; one had only to yield. Digesting another person, however, and sustaining love, was bloody work, and not a soft job.

If you want something badly enough, you make arrangements. If you don't want it badly enough, you make excuses.

It seemed to me that the real philosophical breakthroughs of the 20th century were in terms of the understanding of language. What is language? Where does it come from, how does it work, what does it do?

My pleasures disappeared with my vices.

Why do people who are good at families have to be smug and assume it is the only way to live. … Why can’t they be blamed for being bad at promiscuity?