Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth.

I wanted my own words. But the ones I use have dragged through I don't know how many consciences.

There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.

I maintain that inversion is the effect of neither a prenatal choice nor an endocrinal malformation nor even the passive and determined result of complexes. It is an outlet that a child discovers when he is suffocating.

When she is alone in the rooms I hear her humming to keep herself from thinking.

Some of these days, Oh, you'll miss me honey

Everything in my past, in my training, everything that has been most essential in my activity up to now has made me above all a man who writes, and it is too late for that to change.