Fidelity, enforced and unto death, is the price you pay for the kind of love you never want to give up, for someone you want to hold forever, tighter and tighter, whether he's close or far away, someone who becomes dearer to you the more you've sacrificed for his sake.

In homosexual love the passion is homosexuality itself. What a homosexual loves, as if it were his lover, his country, his art, his land, is homosexuality.

Alcohol is barren. The words a man speaks in the night of drunkenness fade like the darkness itself at the coming of day.

I am dead. I have no desire for you. My body no longer wants the one who doesn’t love.

When you wept it was just over yourself and not because of the marvelous impossibility of reaching her through the difference that separates you.

He wanted to pay her; he thought women ought to be paid for keeping men from dying or going out of their minds.

Words don't change their shape, they change their meaning, their function...They don't have a meaning of their own any more, they refer to other words that you don't know, that you've never read or heard...you've never seen their shape, but you feel...you suspect...they correspond to...an empty space inside you...or in the universe.