I grow old, I grow old, the center will not fold. In youth I had hardening of the categories and looked for the father and the mother in every lover. Then I cracked. Then I fragmented. Then the old man in my soul found the god in herself, not in some Jungian fairy tale but in the flesh that fell from the bones and the words that came into my mouth when the look went out of their eyes.

married was the loneliest I got - being without the one you're with.

Integrity pays, but not in cash.

We do what we can. The results are none of our business.

In an age in which greed and lust stalk the land like some Biblical plague, it is easy to view sex as just one more thing to be had. It is the mythos of moderns.

All media can muddy the mind. Language leads to literature. It also leads to dogma.

I'm accused of cleverness as if it were a sin. She is merely clever, they say.