Without love, most of life remains concealed. Nothing is as fascinating as love, unfortunately.

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?

All the same, my depression and self-hatred, my desire to mutilate myself with broken bottles, my numbness and crying fits, my inability to get out of bed for days and days, the feeling of the world moving in to crush me, went on and on. But I knew I wouldn't go mad, even if that release, that letting-go, was a freedom I desired. I was waiting for myself to heal.

Love cannot be measured by its duration.

You don't stop loving someone just because you hate them.

If you get depressed, you can be stuck for months; if you have an analyst, you at least have a chance of getting out of it faster.

No amount of promises can guarantee love