Then I felt too that I might take this opportunity to tie up a few loose ends, only of course loose ends can never be properly tied, one is always producing new ones. Time, like the sea, unties all knots. Judgements on people are never final, they emerge from summings up which at once suggest the need of a reconsideration. Human arrangements are nothing but loose ends and hazy reckoning, whatever art may otherwise pretend in order to console us.

Oh the piercing sadness of life in the midst of its ordinariness!

I see myself as Rhoda, not Mary Tyler Moore.

You cannot have both truth and what you call civilisation.

Every artist is an unhappy lover. And unhappy lovers want to tell their story.

... a less than perfect meddling in the spiritual world can breed monsters for other people.

I am not famous for anything in particular. I am just famous.