In describing someone's character, I reveal my own.

I must like my profession, since I can hardly distinguish myself from it.

The language of pornography is abusive, that of romance adoring. Both are addressed to a fetish.

The nature of language may determine what most people say, but I always speak my own meaning.

Looking backward at what has been lost, I feel sad, then indifferent, and at last relieved.

Reason enables us to get around in the world of ideas, but cannot prescribe our thoughts.

The lonely become either thoughtful or empty.