For the living, death is thievery.

Half an ear cocked, something in me, all night, every night, is waiting for you to come home.

...hoarders of guilty secrets are inevitably consumed with appearances.

Only a country that feels invulnerable can afford political turmoil as entertainment.

...You can only subject people to anguish who have a conscience. You can only punish people who have hopes to frustrate or attachments to sever; who worry what you think of them. You can really only punish people who are already a little bit good.

Desire is one of the burning experiences of human life.

It's far less important to me to be liked these days than to be understood.