Perhaps someone will have seen mine, the one I’m waiting for, just as I saw him, in a ditch when his hands were making their last appeal and his eyes no longer could see. Someone who will never know what that man was to me; someone whose name I’ll never know.

You alone became the outer surface of my life, the side I never see, and you will be that, the unknown part of me, until I die.

She represents the un-vowed aspiration of the male human being, his potential infidelity - and infidelity of a very special kind, which would lead him to the opposite of his wife, to the woman of wax whom he could model at will, make and unmake in any way he wished, even unto death.

The woman is the home. That's where she used to be, and that's where she still is. You might ask me, What if a man tries to be part of the home -- will the woman let him? I answer yes. Because the he becomes one of the children.

It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.

I have never waited for anything the way I've waited for today, when nothing will happen.

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