If I could do my life over, I would try to cleanse at least my pleasures of self-pity.
Prudence does not make people happy; it merely deprives them of the excitement of being constantly in trouble.
The intimacy of love absolves us of our guilty separateness.
Stupidity is a fact of life, but unmentionable. The new Prudery.
Every representation, even of an orgy, is a sublimation.
A suburb is an attempt to get out of reach of the city without having the city be out of reach.