Truth disappears with the telling of it.

'We live' writes Pursewarden somewhere 'lives based upon selected fictions. Our view of reality is conditioned by our position in space and time — not by our personalities as we like to think. Thus every interpretation oа reality is based upon a unique position. Two paces east or west and the whole picture is changed.

I'm trying to die correctly, but it's very difficult, you know.

Very few people realise that sex is a psychic and not a physical act. The clumsy coupling of human beings is simply a biological paraphrase of this truth - a primitive method of introducing minds to each other, engaging them. But most people are stuck in the physical aspect, unaware of the poetic rapport which it so clumsily tries to teach.

How grudging memory is, and how bitterly she clutches the raw material of her daily work.

Everyone loathes his own country and countrymen if he is any sort of artist.

But I love to feel events overlapping each other, crawling over one another like wet crabs in a basket