Yes, the past is another country, but one that we can visit, and once there we can bring back the things we need.

I dreamed I was a single moment in a single day. A note struck and vanished. A sounding. A reckoning. Gone.

You were in my arms for the first time, and you said my name, 'Tristan.' I answered you: 'Isolde.' Isolde. The world became a word.

As far as I was concerned men were something you had around the place, not particularly interesting, but quite harmless. I had never shown the slightest feeling for them, and apart from my never wearing a skirt, saw nothing else in common between us.

Naked is the best disguise.

You cannot disown what is yours. Flung out, there is always the return, the reckoning, the revenge, perhaps the reconciliation. There is always the return.

Hopeless heart that thrives on paradox; that longs for the beloved and is secretly relieved when the beloved is not there.