I came in at half past eleven. Since then I have been sitting in an easy chair like a fool. I could do nothing. I hear nothing but your voice. I am like a fool hearing you call me 'Dear.' I offended two men today by leaving them coolly. I wanted to hear your voice, not theirs. When I am with you I leave aside my contemptuous, suspicious nature. I wish I felt your head on my shoulder.

I am quite content to go down to posterity as a scissors and paste man for that seems to me a harsh but not unjust description

There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present.

The sea, the snotgreen sea, the scrotumtightening sea.

An Irishman needs three things : silence, cunnning, and exile.

He thought that he was sick in his heart if you could be sick in that place.

To discover the mode of life or of art whereby my spirit could express itself in unfettered freedom.