He thought and suffered a good deal but he lacked the resolution to dare--the first requisite of a practitioner.

What are stars but points in the body of God where we insert the healing needles of our terror and longing?

Perhaps our only sickness is to desire a truth which we cannot bear rather than to rest content with the fictions we manufacture out of each other.

The appalling thing is the degree of charity women are capable of. You see it all the time... love lavished on absolute fools. Love's a charity ward, you know.

Love joins and then divides. How else would we be growing?

Life is like a cucumber. One minute it's in your hand, the next it's up you ass.

It is not love that is blind, but jealousy.